Second Chance
by Kendrene
Summary: After the Blight, her lover lost to the Archdemon, Leliana has returned to the Chantry to serve Justinia. Now a new threat surfaces, the Divine is dead and the Herald has risen to protect all Thedas. Will Leliana allow her mask to slip once more? Leliana/FemInquisitor/poss Cassandra Please R&R
1. Chapter 1 - The Time For Ideals

_**Author's Note: I haven't written in a while so I hope you will excuse my rustiness. I have been toying with the idea of what would happen if my Inquisitor were to fall in love with Leliana, and she with her. I am also coming up with some nasty surprises – Anchor related. **_

_**As usual I don't know where the story will go, but I hope you'll enjoy the ride. Mostly you'll recognize the events of Inquisition, but I may adapt them to the story I want to tell. The same goes for the dialogue- it is loosely inspired (and at times may be) the one you hear in the game- but not the same. Bioware owns everything but my Inquisitor, Leandra.**_

**SECOND CHANCE**

THE TIME FOR IDEALS

**The Herald**

The wind cut like a knife against my cheeks and probed with icy fingers under my cloak. With an irritated sigh, I pulled it tighter around myself, but still could not suppress a shiver.

Haven bustled with activity around me, as I leaned, half sitting against the table outside the requisition officer's tent. People came and went, scraping and bowing respectfully whenever I chanced to look at them.

_Those who actually meet my eyes and don't treat me like I am Andraste reborn._I thought with a wry smile, that felt more like a grimace. Sooner or later some woman would bring me their infant child so I could impart them a benediction.

_And to think no more than a week ago they were ready to hang me as the murderer of the Divine._

I could have escaped the awed looks and the attention by shutting myself into the small house I had been assigned as quarters, but then I would lose my perch, the best spot I had found where I could steal unobtrusive glances at the Inquisition's Spymaster.

I did not know why I felt so intrigued by the secretive redhead. I just knew I could not help myself. She was the one who had stayed Cassandra's hand when, eaten by grief, the Seeker had been ready to strike me down. Maybe I felt like I owed her and was watching for the chance to pay a debt.

_Right, Leandra. That's all there is to it._

"You know Peaches, I have heard if you actually talk to the people you are interested in, you increase your chances of interesting them back."

I jumped, biting back a startled yelp and found Varric leaning beside me. I felt my cheeks suddenly burning. _Maker, have I been so absorbed in my study I didn't hear him approach?_

"Besides," he continued, crossing his arms over his barrel-like chest, "if you stare that hard she is bound to notice."

I frowned down at him and he gave a deep chuckle, shaking his head. Apparently he was not so awed by the Herald deal that he would miss the chance to poke some fun.

"I wasn't staring," I feebly objected, hearing the lie in my own voice, "I was just...looking."

"I'll give it to you," he grinned, refusing to let the matter go, "she is a pretty thing to look at." I shifted uncomfortably and he relented. Barely, "but really, staring until your eyes fall off, won't get you anywhere."

He winked and grinned then and I could not help returning the grin, despite the absurdity of the situation. "You are one to talk, dwarf. You got it easy, married as you are to your crossbow."

Varric threw his head back roaring with laughter. I couldn't help but like him. He was a rouge, honey tongued and too clever by half and I knew he was around at the sufferance of the Seeker and that she had counseled me against trusting him, but he and I had more in common than she could ever imagine. I wasn't the black sheep of the Trevelyan clan for nothing. And we had plenty of shady characters in our history.

"You think my Bianca is as good natured as she looks? I dread what would happen were I not to lavish her with constant attention".

"I shouldn't be even having this discussion," I muttered, rubbing my eyes tiredly, "we have more pressing matters to attend to." I pressed my hand against my forehead and as always I could feel the Mark on my skin. It wasn't a raised scar or an open wound, but I just knew it was _there_. And as always when I was unwillingly reminded of its presence, it throbbed, shards of white hot pain snaking down my arm.

Varric must have seen me grimace, because he stretched a hand and awkwardly patted my back, his jests forgotten for a moment. I knew he meant well, but he didn't know the full extent of it. None of them did. Slowly I lowered my hand and raised my eyes skyward, to the ugly, pustule-like _thing _that marred the Heavens. Sickly green light seemed to ooze down, from some sort of vortex, slowly revolving, mesmerizing in its wrongness. As always when I let myself dwell on it, I fancied I could feel the Breach calling to me, drawing me in. With a shudder I tore my eyes away and thought back to the day we went to the Temple and attempted to close it for good. The voices I had heard in my head, screaming horrific things, pleading, enthralling, and underneath it all the blood curling screams of those lost in the Fade, playthings for demons and worse.

The Breach was a festering cut, it tore the Veil open, it made me feel disjointed like I was both here and on the other side at the same time. It stole my breath and made my heart thunder in my ears. I felt the same way with lesser Rifts, but not as strongly, not as if I could lose myself in the blink of an eye.

I was terrified and I could not tell anyone, because if the one person these people thought would protect them, admitted to fear... what did they have left then?

I felt the burden of responsibility weight down like a boulder on my shoulders and silently prayed it was true what they said of me, that I didn't bear the Mark because of a freak accident, but because the Maker had stretched his hand out to shelter us in this time of need.

I prayed I was the Herald, because the alternative was terrifying.

A sudden commotion near our Spymaster's tent drew my attention back to my surroundings. One of her people, her "eyes and ears" as she liked to call them was reporting back to her, and even though I was far enough that I could not hear what was said over the din of the camps, I could tell by her furrowed brow and the hardening of her mouth, that it was not good news.

"I think," I said, pushing up from the table, my eyes fixed on the exchange, "whatever they are saying, I ought to hear too."

"Yes," Varric agreed slowly, "it does look like Red is ready to chew through nails."

I left him behind as I circled around one of the fires and approached the tent, keeping the flames and the smoke between me and its occupants. Leliana may have been a Master Bard, but I did have a few tricks up my sleeves and I certainly knew how to make myself inconspicuous.

The Spymaster and her agent were so engrossed in conversation that both failed to notice me as I drew within earshot. As I leaned against one of the tent's posts, I could tell that Leliana was distressed. And, oh, so angry.

Her blue eyes were hard chips of ice as she listened to the scout's report and the poor sod was keeping her own gaze firmly planted on the bard's boots as she relayed the information she had gathered.

_Can't really blame her, _I mused in sympathy, _I would not want to be glared at so fiercely either. _I had heard people called Leliana, Sister Nightingale, but to me at that moment she looked more like an hawk, ready to swoop down on prey, and the huddling scout, a mouse.

I only caught the tail end of the report, but enough to understand that one of her people had played double agent, for whom I could not fathom, although the Inquisition had plenty of enemies and by association I did too.

_So many knives in the dark. _I closed my eyes for a moment and inwardly sighed. The constant scheming, the backstabbing, the not-so-veiled threats, seemed all too familiar to what had estranged me from my own kin. The Trevelyan were not as skilled in the Game as the basest of the Orlesian nobles, but they did love their intrigues well enough.

"You know what must be done," Leliana's usually soft Orlesian accent had hardened to a razor sharp edge "make it quick, painless if you can."

Her words, so cold snapped me out of umpleasant memories and I stepped forward.

"What is going on here?"

Leliana rounded on me and I experienced the full force of her anger first hand. _Yep, should have kept my mouth shut._

"He murdered my agent," she spat, fury sharpening every word, "endangered my men!"

"And so you'd kill him, just like that?" I stepped forward myself, my tone equally challenging, my fists clenching. _Why am I so angry?, _part of me wondered. _I do not know this man, or the one he killed. I should not care and yet... _"You'd repay him with the same coin? What makes _you _any better then?"

I could tell, as soon as those words left my mouth, that I had struck a nerve and I regretted my hastiness. I wanted to understand this woman, not hurt her, and yet I felt as if she was hardening herself against her nature, as if she had put on a mask and was unable now to show what lay underneath, if she even remembered at all. And so I challenged her on a decision that by any means should have not concerned me. I didn't rule here, I was but a means to an end, a key to fit into the Breach, to close it and then be forgotten when the deed was done.

I moved, putting her agent between me and her, to try and keep her off balance. Maybe the mask would slip and I would get a glimpse of the Leliana she _was, _not the one she acted.

"You disapprove of my decision," the faltering was already gone, her composure outwardly regained but belied by the blue fire burning in her eyes. Her remark, half statement, half question held a note of curiosity.

"You propose murder," I countered, her scout trying to become invisible as she was caught between our warring glares, "are you going to solve all of our problems at knife's edge?"

"I do what must be done," her jaw clenched she strode past her agent, and stopped so close to me I could have reached out and, and...

_And, what exactly Leandra?_

"I cannot afford the luxury of ideals at a time like this," she went on, her voice steel. I shook my head unwilling or unable to concede any ground to her argument.

"This is precisely the time for ideals!" My words were snarled more than spoken, "if not now that we walk on the edge of destruction then when?" I had moved again, pacing around her tent to vent part of my ire. "We are supposed to be righteous, but just! If we pursue our ends through evil means, how long will it take it to corrupt what we stand for?" I slammed my fist on her desk, hard. "I will not allow it!"

I rested my hand, palm down on the table to keep it from shaking and again felt the Mark throb harshly, digging into my flesh. For a moment, what remained of the Breach seemed to loom closer, overbearingly so, as my temples were sized by crushing agony and my vision swam. There were two Lelianas in the tent with me then, and the whispers from the Fade became louder, tearing at my consciousness.

The redhaired woman moved closer, our quarrel forgotten as she laid a hand on my arm.

"Are you allright?" she asked, her voice softer, "you look... pale."

_They can't know! _Frantically I tried to push away the queasiness and in doing so I took a step back, jerking my arm away. Was it hurt that flashed through her face for a second?

_Hasty. Always so hasty, Leandra._

I swallowed, my mouth dry and my tongue thick as if I had eaten sand.

"I am fine." I lied, not daring to meet her gaze again, for surely she would know that I wasn't telling the truth then.

"You..." she stopped for a moment, frowning as if unsure how to continue, " you feel very strongly about this." She sighed wearily, her shoulders stooped as if the argument had drained her, "I will think of another way to deal with this man."

She turned to the scout then, her tone commanding again. "Apprehend Butler, but see he is...unharmed."

The scout bowed, a tad too hurriedly, and I could tell she was relieved to be away from the two of us.

"I have bothered you enough Leliana." The dizziness receeding, I didn't want to trip over my own tongue all over again and start another argument. If I had learned anything from our exchange, it was that we were both extremely stubborn. "I will leave you to your work."

"As you say," she nodded graciously, "we'll have time to talk later."

I retreated then, briskly walking away from her tent and the Chantry, my hand throbbing with every step, a stark reminder that our problems were far from solved. As I left, my mind already full of Mages and Templars and the choice we would have to make soon, I failed to notice Leliana was watching me go, speculation and worry mixing on her face.


	2. Chapter 2 - A Roll Of The Dice

A ROLL OF THE DICE

**Scribbles**

"She said _that _to your face?"

Despite Leliana's thunderous visage I could not keep the mirth from my voice.

"Don't start Josephine, " she muttered, pacing back and forth in my small study and making vigorous use of the available space at that.

"Oh, I apologise Leliana. "

I actually smirked. _This is just too rich. _

I busied myself for a moment with the papers littering my desk.

"She may have a point you know."

The words rolled off my tongue before I could stop myself and her glare became, if possible, even fiercer.

She stopped abruptly in front of me, looming down, intimidating. I folded my hands in front of me and looked up expectantly, waiting for the inevitable explosion.

She threw up her hands with an exasperated sigh.

"The pen can be mightier than the sword, " she said, mocking my accent. Then she crossed her arms, despondent.

"I do not care for another lecture on the validity of your methods. After all I don't tell you how best to approach the noble houses, _non_?"

Pulling a chair towards her, she dropped down on it and added:

"Besides I have not agreed to spare Butler torture when he is brought in."

I involuntarily put a hand to my mouth. "Leliana!" I chided, half shocked.

_She must be jesting. _

It galled me to admit I was not sure.

I clearly remembered when she had returned to Orlais. Divine Justinia had called and Leliana had come to serve as her Left Hand. Rumor had flourished around her, running wild like a fire. Not all were aware of her role, but speculation was enough that the Orlesian nobles, the most cunning at least, started taking notice of the redhead, of what she did when accompanying the Divine in public and, most of all, of the times she was absent from Justinia's side.

The time at the Divine's side had hardened her, adding walls around a heart already broken by the loss of her Grey Warden lover.

I had dared raise the subject with her only once and the ice in her voice as she shut the conversation down had chilled me.

"Never ask me again, Josephine, " she had whispered, holding my gaze with burning eyes, "never again."

An involuntary shiver ran down my spine and I picked up a quill, my voice brisker than intended when I said:

"if that is all.."

I trailed off as she shook her head and waved a hand to hush me.

"No, there is..."she frowned, "that is to say I am troubled."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Troubled? How so?"

"The Herald, she..." another pause, longer this time, "she troubles me." Her voice had dropped to a whisper.

I studied her and the way the torches cast her face in flickering, ever changing shadows.

Her eyes downcast, she appeared to be studying her hands. She looked almost shaken.

_Is someone finally breaking through the facade you show to the world, my friend?_

The Herald seemed to be having an effect on Leliana and I had to admit to myself I was interested to see where it would go.

"Does it trouble you that you quarreled?" I ventured.

"Yes," she bit her lip,"No... _ahh _I don't know."

I tapped my fingers on the table.

"If what occurred bothers you, then talk to her and..."

I trailed off, interrupted by a knock at the door.

"There you are," Cassandra's harsh tones broke the sudden silence.

"We are to discuss our plan of action, don't you remember? The Herald and Cullen are already at each other's throats," she added as we were herded towards our makeshift War Room.

The Seeker forged ahead, leaving us to exchange a wondering look and, as she flung the door open, I could hear voices raised in argument.

I sighed. It would be a long night.

**The Nightingale**

Her voice drifted to me as I was crossing the threshold, hitting me like a fist in the stomach. _Why does she unsettle me so?_

I wanted to harden myself against her. I had sworn, after Kyra's death, to never let anyone touch me the way she had, never let anyone past my defences, and yet...

"The cavalry has arrived," she said, gesturing towards us, "maybe they will agree with you, Commander. "

We took our places around the table and for some reason I felt compelled to take the one next to her. I tried to convince myself it was because we would be allies in the planning to come.

I was very aware of Cassandra's curious look.

Leandra's shoulders jerked in surprise before she could catch herself and I had to turn my face quickly, lest she see my rueful smile.

_At least I am not the only one being affected_.

Cullen cleared his throat.

"As I was trying to explain to the Herald," he began, "approaching the Templars is our safest bet. They could easily channel their will through you," he pointedly looked at Leandra, "and boost the Mark with that energy to assist in closing the Breach."

She sighed and rubbed her eyes tiredly.

"I have already given my answer, Commander," she replied tersely, "it has not changed in the past ten minutes."

"I would like to hear your thoughts Leandra," I interjected, echoed by the Seeker.

She darted me a glance, as if surprised I cared for her thoughts.

_Of course I do._

"I believe we should approach the Mages in Redcliffe, " she began, "First Enchanter Fiona invited us there and at least she is willing to listen. I seem to recall the Lord Seeker _punched _ one of the Revered Mothers."

Cullen shook his head vehemently, "you would throw in our lot with Apostates, with... with _deviants_!"

Leandra shifted and I could see hurt in her eyes. She looked at me, then turned her gaze down and I saw her fists clench.

"Cullen," I cautioned, but he ignored me, too caught up in his righteous prattle.

"Cullen, _enough_! "

He faltered then and they all looked at me surprised. Except Leandra's eyes, they seemed... _grateful_.

Before I could say more, Leandra raised her hand so we could all see the Mark.

It flared then, bathing the room in spectral light and I saw her jaw harden in unspoken pain.

_She lied to Cassandra about it not hurting anymore! _ My eyes narrowed in anger, _why won't she share the burden...?_

Then it hit me. Kyra had been the same way. I closed my eyes, the sudden pressure of tears threatening to spill down my cheeks.

"Apostate." Leandra's soft whisper drew me back from the well of memory, "freak, Abomination," the Mark flared again, underlying her every word. The torches seemed to dim as the Mark grew brighter, casting its eerie glow on all present.

"What does that make me then?" She went on.

"I did not mean to insinuate..." Cullen backpedalled.

"Yes Commander, you did." Leandra waved his apology away, "and whether I like it or not, I am touched by magic. I hope for all our sakes the Maker saw our need and provided us with the means to avert this crisis, " she glanced at her hand pensively for a long moment, then made a fist, hiding the Mark.

Its light gone, I found I could breathe easier.

"We can't afford to ignore the Mages. I am sure sooner or later someone will call me a demon because of the Mark and..."

"Some already do," Josephine squirmed uncomfortably and the Herald smiled thinly.

"Best we show these people that the Inquisition can make the Mages see reason and the Templars will be forced to follow."

I nodded my agreement, "if the First Enchanter agrees to help close the Breach, the Templars will not want to be seen as idle fools."

"No more than they already are," Cassandra muttered, eliciting a grunt from Cullen.

"It pains me to say," the Seeker continued, "that I do not know what Lord Seeker Lucius would do, if approached now," she crossed her arms as if cold, "he always was a just, pragmatic man, but now he acts _insane." _Her mouth curled around the word in distaste.

"Assessing Enchanter Fiona's intentions seems the wisest course, " Josephine volunteered, "We can hear her out at the very least and then decide if any of her terms can be met."

"Then what say you Herald?" Cassandra turned towards Leandra.

"I say get ready," a determined expression came over her face, "we move out at first light."


	3. Chapter 3 - Just Before Dawn

_**Author's note: This in my head was originally one chapter, but it's fairly long so I thought it best to split it up into parts. You will notice I have changed up a few things, Leliana accompanying the Herald to Redcliffe the first time being the main one, for plot reasons. Hope you enjoy. Thanks to all those reading this. As usual feedback is not only welcomed, but dearly treasured. Bonus points to whoever spots the Warhammer inspired tidbit.**_

JUST BEFORE DAWN

**The Nightingale**

A sudden gust of wind, finding its way into the Chantry made the candles' flames flicker and hiss as they bent under the wintry touch. The building was quiet that early in the morning, Haven's denizens fast asleep as the velvet black of the night gave way unwillingly to the approaching dawn.

Some called it the Witching Hour, as the sky turned a paler shade of black, but not quite gray and it was maybe the only time in Haven when activity was all but stopped.

I preferred to visit the chapel at this time, for I found, after a few moments of quiet contemplation, I could better focus on the tasks at hand.

I stopped abuptly on my way to Andraste's statue however, as the same wind that had made the flames dance, brought the whisper of a prayer to my ears.

_Who would brave the snow and the chill at this hour, to offer devotions? _

I softened my steps, edging warily from shadow to shadow, afraid to disturb the soul seeking solace in meditation and yet irresistibly drawn forward.

I halted, half hidden, behind the last column prior to the altar.

_Leandra._

My breath half caught in my throat, hissing between my lips in a sigh of escaped surprise before I could press them together and I fervently prayed she hadn't heard.

"Maker," she was reciting, kneeling, head low, arms set across her chest, palms turned to her bosom as it sometimes used in the Free Marches, "my enemies are abundant. Many are those who rise up against me. But my faith sustains me; I shall not fear the legion, should they set themselves against me."

I stepped forward, compelled by the force of the conviction I felt in her voice.

My lips parted and i lost myself in the familiar words, heard so many times in my time at Lothering and etched into my heart.

"Though all before me is shadow," my voice joined in, echoing hers, "Yet shall the Maker be my guide. I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Beyond. For there is no darkness in the Maker's Light. And nothing that He has wrought shall be lost."

We let the quiet of the Chapel envelop us, and I felt myself drifting closer to her than ever before. I closed my eyes, memories of Kyra threatening to engulf me. We had used to pray like this many times before battle.

_Why do you remind me of her so? _I wanted to ask.

Again I tried to strengthen the walls I had so carefully constructed around myself, never to touch, to feel again so close to another.

I had so sworn that fateful day as I held the lifeless body of my beloved close to my chest and screamed my anguish to the heavens, full of grief as the rest of Ferelden rejoiced around me.

_Is it really what you want, Leliana? _I asked myself. If I was being honest, the nights had gotten more and more lonely, the solitude hard to bear and the absence of a companion keenly felt in the moments when I faltered and strayed from my course. I had felt myself growing desperate and the pain of unshed tears had become harder to hide.

"Leliana," her voice was a gentle caress, my name spoken in such a way I could feel the emotion behind it. Still, maybe mine was naught but wishful thinking. She stood, this woman that, for the life of me, I still could not figure out, and she turned towards me.

"I hope I did not intrude," I murmured as she approached.

"Not at all," she smiled then bent down to recover a bundle I had not noticed, enticed as I had been by her. She quickly undid the strings holding it together and it turned out to be a cloack, containing her weapons. As she busied herself with fastening her sword belt, I could take my time in studying her.

Leandra's eyes caught the light in the most peculiar way, the blue so deep it seemed to glow from within. I was close enough to pick out the flecks of gold around her irises even as her gaze was drawn downward to what she was doing.

_Such peculiar eyes. _

I had never seen eyes like hers before, in such an unremarkable face. Pretty nonetheless, but normal enough it would easily get lost in a crowd.

_Except for those eyes._

They completely transformed her, made her beautiful. I swallowed, suddenly conscious of the queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"Going somewhere?" I realised she had been studying me in return, taking in the fact I too was armed and had eschewed the mauve cloack I usually wore for a forest green one.

"I thought I would accompany the scouts I assigned you to Redcliffe, " I carefully said, as we started walking towards the Chantry's doors.

I stole a glance at her face, gauging her reaction.

"Oh?" She had raised an eyebrow and a slight smile was playing on her lips. "What happened to your people being your eyes on the field? "

I shrugged, returning the smile, "figured I would take a look at these rebel Mages for myself."

She made a noncommittal sound and held the door open for me. Early morning light spilled into the building and i could take a better look at her equipment. She wore a sword on each hip, wicked things with well worn leather hilts. One was noticeably shorter than the other, more of a broad bladed dagger, judging by the shape of the sheath, than a sword proper. My interest piqued as, from those weapons, I recognised she must have been trained in the duelists' school of swordfight. That style was still fairly used in Orlais, especially to settle disputes at Court, but the best duelist I had ever met, lay dead by my own hand.

Marjolaine had been a cruel, unfeeling fighter. She had delighted in toying with her adversaries, but somehow I could not see Leandra being the same. Her armor was mostly leather, with mail inserts on the joints and chest and metal plates over her shoulders and shins. The metal had been dulled with dirt to reduce its glint and her cloack was a motley ensemble of patches to mimic the color patterns of woodland.

Outside, a small group had gathered, to the jingle of harness and the swearing that usually accompanied last minute preparations.

Cassandra walked briskly towards us, her jaw grimly set.

"I do not like what you have in mind Leandra. Not one bit." She seemed to bite off every word.

"You don't have to like it, Seeker. Besides, may I remind you that you agreed to this no later than last night?"

Cassandra pressed her lips together, but appeared slightly mollified when she continued:

"Cullen would stil like to send more men."

Leandra chuckled. "I am sure he'd round up a whole company given half the chance. That's why we are leaving so bloody early." She turned her gaze towards the small band now orderly arranged in two neat files of horse, "the Chargers will be enough."

I cleared my throat to get the womens' attention.

"Either of you care to explain?"

Leandra nodded and I saw a change come over her. _She is a born leader_, I realized as she bekoned Iron Bull and his lieutenant Cremisius over with a curt gesture.

"Your scout leader?"

I nodded, motioning discreetly for Scout Harding to join our little group.

"Harding!" Leandra's face broke into a wide grin, "long time no see!"

The dwarven woman laughed "you never write anymore ma'am. "

"You wound me, Harding, deeply so."

I felt a pang of jealousy at the easy camaraderie.

_Don't be an idiot, Leliana. _I chided myself.

The Herald reached dow to a small leather case strapped to her thigh and pulled out a tightly rolled parchment.

"Our work in the Hinterlands has dampened down the fighting between rogue Mages and Templars considerably," she began, spreading the map out for all to see, "the area around the Crossroads is pretty much secure," she turned to Cassandra, "Seeker, if you will?"

"There is still some Templar activity further west, but it should be of no consequence. I have ordered some of our forces to increase the patrols in that direction, which should keep the rebel knights out of our hair, so to speak."

"The Chargers will take the Redcliffe road up to the town's walls," Leandra resumed, "Cassandra is officially acting as the Inquisition's agent sent to parley with the Mages,"

"You don't want them to know you are taking a direct interest, " I said slowly.

The Seeker nodded.

"Not until she is inside the walls."

"That is why we," Leandra's gaze seemed to linger on me, but I told myself she was including the Scout as well, "will parallel the main force's route through the woods."

"And send any troube our way," Iron Bull's grin was that of a wolf among sheep.

"Hopefully there will be none," Leandra replied, before briskly rolling up the map and walking to her mount.

I followed, as the others dispersed and grabbed her arm before she could hoist herself onto the saddle.

"You suspect foul play," it was not a question.

"I always do." My grip tightened involuntarily, but this time she did not pull herself away.

"If you do, why go at all?" I challenged, "you have people that would gladly go in your stead."

_Me included._

She shook her head, then not unkindly grasped my hand and moved it so she could swing up on her horse.

Not to be denied so easily, I held onto her stirrup.

She sighed wearily, "we all do what we must, yes? This is my duty and I will not shied from it."

I held her gaze, one more question burning on my lips, doubt heavy in my heart.

"Why was I not consulted?" My voice was laced with anger as I put my fear into words, "do you not trust my counsel?"

Her face was painted over with shock, almost horrified at the suggestion.

_She didn't realise how it all would look? _ I mused, surprised myself. Part of me wanted to slap her.

"I feel some of my past remarks may have caused offence, Leliana," her tone almost timid, "that is why I submitted my plan to the Seeker and Commander Cullen, but not you."

Leandra bent down then, her hand outstretched before she could check herself. She let her arm drop.

It had almost looked like she had been about to cup my face. I couldn't honestly say I would have minded.

"Believe me when I say that I trust you so, I would place my life in your hands." Her voice was barely above a whisper, her eyes full of sadness. Or was it longing?

_You would like that, wouldn't you. _

I stared, taken aback by her bluntness. I realised my grip on her saddle had grown so tight a dull ache was spreading down my arm.

"We need to talk," I closed my eyes for a moment, my own whisper choked with emotion. As I uttered those words, a tension that had been there for weeks and I had so far tried to ignore seemed to find its release.

"We do," her gaze hadn't wavered from me, "let us deal with the Mages and then we will."

She spurred her horse forward then, and I had no choice but to follow.


	4. Chapter 4 - A Covenant Of Witches

_**Author's Note: thanks to all of you who are embarking on this journey with me. The way this chapter came out, is quite different from what I had in mind. As usual your thoughts and suggestions are welcome. Also, have a bit of travelling to do this weekend, so probably won't update till next week.**_

_**PS: Well I did have a bit of an epiphany regarding the end of the chapter, which is something that will let me come forth with another idea I have been toying with. So I am changing the ending and resubmitting this last one. I am sorry, I hate changing stuff on people. Please let me know what you think.**_

A COVENANT OF WITCHES

**The Herald**

"What is your fear?"

The quarterstaff whistled towards my head and I barely managed to divert it with a loud _crack_.

I feinted a thrust to the left, but my opponent saw through my clumsy attempt and easily swept the end of his staff under mine.

I doubled over as sharp pangs of agony spread from my ribs to my chest.

_Oh, Maker, I can't breathe_.

"Whatever your fear is, it is making you slow." Iron Bull's voice dripped with contempt, "you will admit your fear, embrace it and you _will _control it."

"I am not afraid." I managed to gasp.

"Then you are a fool."

I heard the staff part the air again and stumbled back, weakly raising a guard.

_Too slow._

He brushed my weapon aside with ease, then the staff darted around me, hitting knuckles, wrist, knee and stomach in rapid succession. I felt myself fall, face down on the ground. My face was pressed to the earth and I could feel dirt and snow on my tongue. Pieces of ice dug into my cheek and the cut under my eye, which was barely closed, reopened.

The Qunari stepped next to me and I lay at his feet, shivering with pain and exhaustion. I could not remember how long we had been at it.

The quarterstaff stabbed downward and I managed to catch its shadow descend through pain slitted eyes. I rolled out of the way, screaming as my bruised ribs were crushed against the hard ground. I realized I was staring directly up at the Breach and I felt its crushing pressure seize my entire being. The Mark on my hand awakened as I threw my arm across my eyes to try and shield myself. The staff hit the ground with a hollow _thud_ and a fountain of half frozen dirt showered me.

Bull was berating me again, but another, more powerful voice thundered in my ears, so ancient it made my bones ache.

_The Elder One comes_.

I cried out and memory flooded in.

* * *

><p><em>"The Elder One comes," the man forced out, a spray of blood accompanying his words and leaving scarlet rivulets down his chin. I twisted the sword in disgust and pulled it back with a wet sound. My strength had kept him upright and now he slowly slid back against the tree trunk and down to the ground. <em>

_Little bubbles of blood gathered at the corners of his mouth and more crimson welled up in the gash on his chest. _

Not long now. _I thought as I watched him die._

_He stared back accusingly._

_"Thief," he gasped, "the Elder One..." I reversed the grip on the sword's hilt and brought it down, full force against his neck. He spasmed once, then stillness descended on the clearing._

_Leliana and Harding emerged, almost simultaneously from the undergrowth. I didn't turn._

_"Scout Revallin is dead." Harding announced. I flicked the blood from my blade in acknowledgement. My fault._

Maker, shelter him.

_"So are they," Leliana curtly gestured at the bodies scattered around us._

_I half turned towards them then and the Bard let out a soft gasp. I was conscious of the blood trickling down the side of my face from the cut barely below my right eye. I thought I could feel the cheekbone partially exposed to the air. _

_"You are bleeding," the dwarven woman stated, looking up at me._

_"Very observant, Harding." I hid the queasiness I felt behind sarcasm, as I tried to forget how close that arrow had come to my eye. We had made good progress up to the ambush, at least. _

_I closed my eyes for a moment, as those frantic instants flashed by me. Leliana had been on point, about fifty paces ahead of me, the forest around us quiet, maybe too much so. _

_I had halted, faltering and a sense of oppression had built into my chest. I had whistled softly to get her attention and signalled her to move back to my position. We had locked gazes and I could tell she too was troubled. _

_Then, as she had crouched low and started back, it had air behind her had seemed to coalesce, in a shape slowly revealing itself human. Magic residue had filled the woods and I, unthinking, had closed the distance in a mad rush, a shout of warning on my lips. I dimly recalled tackling her to the forest floor, a black shape whizzing past us, and the blossoming of pain right after. What I could not so clearly remember, was reaching for a hidden knife, and the throw, underhanded as I rolled off her. But my aim must have been true, because I could see another body sprawled unceremoniously across some rocks. The knife sprouting from his gorge like a grotesque flower was definitely one of mine. The rest of the battle was a collection of broken images and noise. Unbearable heat, the gurgling of a slit throat, flashes of ringing steel._

_"We should see to you, " Leliana moved towards me, worry filling her eyes. I stopped her on her tracks with a hard stare. _

Not here. Not now.

_"What have you found?" I asked, ignoring her reproachful look and the set of her jaw. I would get an earful later, I was sure._

_"They all seem to have come by an awful lot of Tevinter coin," Harding offered._

_"What a strange occurrence, wouldn't you agree? " I crouched next to the man I had just killed in search of his purse. _

_I already knew what I would find._

_The shadow of the Imperium stretched dark amongst us._

* * *

><p>"Have you found your fear yet, <em>basra<em>?"

Sweat had frozen on me as I regained my bearings. It hurt to move, to breathe, even lifting my head to meet Bull's stony gaze was a monumental task.

I gritted my teeth, blinking back tears.

"I am not afraid!"

"Then you are blind." Bull's tones were a disapproving rumble.

I snatched my quarterstaff up and staggered to my feet with a snarl. I half ran, half wobbled at him and jabbed at his chest. I almost managed to hit him this time, before he hooked his weapon behind my leg and pulled, sending me sprawling on my back.

"We will rectify that," he growled as the staff stabbed down again. I wasn't quck enough this time and the end of it caught me on the temple.

The world turned to white.

* * *

><p>Leliana is here.<p>

_The simmering anger I had felt burning in my chest since Alexius had cast us into he future, turned into white hot fury. _

_"You are a mistake," he had accused me in Redcliffe Castle's throne room, "one that should never have existed. " The Mark throbbed and I closed my fist around the hilt of my sword. The beat slowed until it matched that of my heart. I inhaled slowly. _

_I had spat my defiance at the Magister, throwing the Tevinter coins we had found on his henchmen at his feet. Then, when Leliana's and Cullen's men had surrounded his Venatori, and we had thought him cornered, he had ensnared us with his magic, far from defeated._

_"She is not the one you left in our time, you know," Dorian tried to reassure me, "none of them are."_

_"Hey, I am quite real, you bloody Tevinter arsehole!" Sera's voice, distorted by the red lyrium corruption, still managed to sound indignant. _

_It had reassured me immensely to have her and Cassandra guarding my back again, and at the same time it had filled me with sorrow. Exposure to the red lyrium had changed them, broken them. Sera had been no more than a babbling child when I had found her cell, afraid I had been a ghost until I had pulled her in my arms to prove I was flesh and blood. She had clung to me, sobbing against my shoulder when she had realized I wasn't lying. And Cassandra..._

_Finding the Seeker like we did had been all the more painful: I would never had thought she could break away from her faith, but I had seen with my own eyes how her belief had been burned away to the last shred. And yet she had risen at my call, one last time as her tortured soul and her body, twisted beyond repair, craved naught but the release of death and oblivion. But risen she had, putting her blade at my service without hesitation. I swore to myself that, whatever the cost, this nightmarish future would not come to pass._

_""We will go back, I assure you," Dorian resumed, "and all on this will never have occured."_

_"It is enough it has happened to them Dorian," I retorted, as we climbed the stairs to yet more torture chambers, "the fact this future is a mere branch of chance for us, doesn't erase their suffering."_

_Muffled voices drew my attention as we passed by a barred door. Then I heard her screams. I stared, rooted in place for a moment then rage became a red mist that swallowed my every thought. I threw my shoulder against the wood, once, twice, three times till it finally gave way. I stormed into the room, taking in the man, slowly turning from Leliana's hanging body._

_"Or maybe you'll die first," I heard her say. Then she twisted in a way i would never have thought possible and her legs went around his neck, snapping it._

_I was so caught up, I almost didn't see the second man. He lunged and only instinct saved me. _

_I caught his wrist midair, and dug my fingers into his flesh until he dropped the dagger he was brandishing. I pulled him forward and sent him face first into the wall with a sickening crunch. I pulled his head back and smashed it against the stone, again and again, oblivious to the pasty gore covering my gauntleted hands._

_Her scarred, tortured face filled my thoughts. I wanted to tear Alexius' black heart out. _

_I wanted to howl._

* * *

><p>I screamed, anguished sobs racking my prone body. I huddled, covered in blood and dirt and snow, unable to keep the grief in any longer. Bull crouched next to me and grabbed me by my hair, lifting my head up roughly.<p>

"Do you see your fear now?"

"Yes," I gasped, tears streaming down my face. He grunted and released me, leaving me to struggle to my knees. Footsteps crunched on the snow behind us.

"What is the meaning of this?" I had never noticed before, how Leliana's accent grew thicker when she was angry.

"She asked for my help," the Qunari's voice sounded almost defensive, scared even.

"Leave."

"I..."

"I said, _leave_."

I felt her more than saw her reach down to me. She carefully placed a hand on my shouder and i flinched involuntarily as tendrils of pain snaked down my back.

"Can you stand?" her voice was a soft whisper in my ear. The steel was still there, under the gentleness though, and I was sure she would eventually give me a piece of her mind.

I pushed up with my hands and managed a half crouch: the world tilted and a wave of nausea washed over me. Sweat broke out and instantly froze on my brow and I would have collapsed, had she not put an arm around my waist to support me.

"Lean on me," she said, starting me in the direction of Haven's meager walls. She was so close, the scent of Andraste's Grace filled my nostrils. Black spots suddenly danced in front of my eyes and i halted, shaking my head to clear them out.

_Oh. Wrong move._

Agony seized my temples and spread down to my neck and shoulders, and I bit down on my tongue to stifle a moan.

"What where you thinking?" When i managed to look at her, Leliana's face was a portrait of barely contained fury.

I spit out a fat glob of blood before replying:

"I asked...I asked him to train me." My breath came out in short, shallow gasps. Even those few words had been an effort.

"I have seen you fight, Leandra," she tightened her hold on me as she felt me slip, "and what I just saw was more akin to being beaten to death than training."

We were almost at the gates now and I stopped again. My legs were shaking and a burning ache was spreading all over me.

"Can't," I mouthed, "can't see me... like this."

She scoffed.

"I would dearly like to parade you through town, to show everyone how much of a fool you are being," a sneer twisted her lips for a moment, then her words softened to a barely audible whisper, "but then again you aren't the only fool, are you?"

She steered me away from the village and we negotiated our way through the frozen, treacherous ground, towards a destination only she knew.

I was barely conscious then, the effort of putting a foot in front of the next consuming the little attention I could muster.

I was aware of her arm around me, of the heat of her body brushing against mine. She became the only tangible thing in my world, as I trudged on through a dazed fog.

"Just hold on a little longer, _entêté_." she murmured, her breath warm against my ear.

All of a sudden the wind stopped hounding us and then I felt myself being gently eased down on something soft.

"Don't move," she cautioned as I felt her touch leave me. I wanted to cry out in loss. I could sense her move around the space, but it was too dark for me to see what she was doing.

I tried to move my head when she moved out of my line of sight and regretted it immediately as a hiss of pain escaped my lips. Dizziness washed over me and threatened to drag me under.

_Someone is whimpering. _I furrowed my brow in confusion, before realizing it was me.

"I told you to lay still," her voice scolded me, but her hands were gentle as they moved deftly over me, checking for damage.

"There seems to be nothing broken, although the Seeker may want to change that at a later date."

She left my side again, and I heard the sound of water being poured.

She had lit a fire and removed her gloves and cloak. The flames made the red in her hair shine brighter. I wanted to run my hands through it. She seemed crowned by fire.

I must have said so, because I heard her giggle. I probably would have been blushing had my wits been about me.

"You are delirious," she smiled down at me and I felt the touch of wet cloth as she washed the dirt from my face. "You'll need stitches on that cut now," she added, delicately dabbing at the blood congealed under my eye.

She picked up a knife and sliced through my shirt next, cursing colorfully as the extent of the bruising was revealed.

She angrily spat some remark in Orlesian, too fast for me to follow the meaning and then wetted another cloth. I tried to cross my arms over my chest, acutely aware of being half bare in front of her.

"_Non," _gently she grasped my wrists and moved my arms down. I was too weak to stop her. She worked in silence for a while, cleansing my skin, the water warm on my chest, not at all umpleasant.

I felt myself relax under her touch, giving in to the fatigue and the ocean of emotions rising inside me.

"Leandra," I opened my eyes with a start, I must have drifted off without realising. Her fingers traced the line of my brow kindly, recalling me from oblivion.

She held my gaze with hers, blue eyes so deep I could have lost myself in her without a care. In fact, I very much wanted to.

"Why did you do this to yourself?" I stared, startled as I heard her question strain with worry. "And don't give me more of that training nonsense."

I broke my gaze away with an effort and shut my eyes tightly, feeling the sting of tears grow against my eyelids.

I couldn't hold the grief at bay any longer, and yet I had to. I felt trapped by the fear Bull had tried to beat out of me the Qunari way. I was mired in indecision, one side of me desperate to reach out, to feel like I belonged to someone, like I could have more to fight for than ideals, the other part of me, the one that had spent years armoring itself against the world screamed at me that if I let her close, what had happened in the past would happen again.

I desperately wanted to protect her, what I had sworn during the horrible journey through that future where the Elder One had triumphed, still ringing true into my thoughts.

I was at the centre of a web made of danger and intrigue, all the hands of our opponents turned on me. I would not allow others to use what I felt against me. Against her. Even allies would manoeuvre for advantage. People always did.

"I saw you die," I hid myself behind half truths, "I saw you all die and there was nothing I could do."

She took my marked hand gently in hers.

"You are mourning?" she asked, confusion on her face, "is a sacrifice I would not hesitate to make, touching you so?" Her fingers tapped the mark, softly "you hold the key to our salvation, I would lay my life down for you without a second thought."

_So would I_. But I didn't say it.

With an effort I sat upright, gently waving her concerned hands away.

"Where are you going?" her voice was guarded, her eyes hurt. It stung me deeply, to not be able to give in to her kindness, but I could not stay or the words I was so determined to keep from her, would stumble out of their own accord.

I stood, letting my body play catchup as strained muscles screamed in protest at the sudden movement. Snatching a blanket up, I draped it around my shoulder to protect myself from the stinging cold waiting outside.

As I reached for the door, the Mark gave a painful twinge and my hand sized up with cramps. I fought against it, slowly opening and closing my fingers, but couldn't conceal a grimace.

She stood and came up behind me. I jerked away. If she touched me I would break down. I could feel the walls inside me crumble.

"The Mark..."

"It is fine." I interrupted.

She grabbed my arm, angrily.

"You don't have to bear all this alone, Leandra!"

I shook her hand away, almost rudely.

"We all do what we must, _non_?"

Without pause, I threw open the door and stepped outside, walking at a brisk wobble back towards the village.

I felt her gaze burning hot on my back for quite some time.


	5. Chapter 5- The Storm Gathers

**_Author's Note: ah! Managed to sneak in one more chapter this week!_**

THE STORM GATHERS

**The Seeker**

"I should have known I would find you here," Leandra raised her head and met my gaze with a serene one of her own.

"Is it time?"

I nodded. She stood slowly and from the stiffness of her movements I could tell she had been kneeling in prayer for quite some time.

"How did you know where to look?" she shook her head quizzically as we ascended from the basement to the Chantry proper, "I have worked very hard to make myself scarce these past few hours."

There was tiredness in her voice and dark circles under her eyes. Her face had an unhealthy pallor and the livid cut under her eye made her look even pastier by contrast. I couldn't find it in me to blame her for wanting to seek out some solace. As we prepared to march on the Breach, more and more matters had required her attention.

She had seemed to be everywhere, always the mediator when tension had threatened to flare up uncontrolled, especially when the Mages and the few Templars who had joined our ranks had tried to start trouble. Maker above knew that bunch warranted more than a few headaches.

"Leliana suggested where I could start looking." A tightening around her eyes was the only outward sign of the tension I could feel building between those two.

We walked in silence along the chapel's inner corridors until I felt I had to break the quiet.

"I owe you an apology Leandra,"

"Oh?" She turned to me, puzzled.

"I have badly misjudged you. You... you have accomplished more in a few weeks than any of us could have hoped to do. The way I have treated you when we found you..."

She raised a hand to hush me. "You were grieving, angry. I would have reacted the same way."

She briefly glanced at Andraste's statue as we walked past it.

"I still wonder why I came back and the Divine did not," she murmured, so softly I wasn't sure I was meant to hear her, "she was the worthiest of us all by far."

I felt the anguish caused by Justinia's loss flow back into me at her words, but held my peace. Maker knew she had tried to remember what had happened, even insisting I questioned her closely whenever she was not on the field. We had been over the events at the Temple countless times.

I had seen then, the truth of Leliana's words; the Mark still restless, growing more painful with every session. We didn't think it would kill her yet, but who could be certain?

Even Solas, the most knowledgeable in things of the Fade, was at a complete loss.

Still, I wished she didn't deny the pain, even when it was apparent on her face, it almost looked like she thought she had to bear it all alone.

_Then again, who am I to judge? I have always been the same way._

Josephine was waiting for us at the War Room's doors, and when her gaze rested on the Herald, a flustered look appeared on her face.

"Is something amiss?" I asked the usually impassible Ambassador.

She shook her head, but her eyes never left Leandra. Was it reproach I saw there?

Oblivious to the scrutiny, gaze unfocused and mind clearly elsewhere, Leandra went past her to push open the door.

I could see the sudden tension in the line of her shoulders and the way she clenched and unclenched her marked hand explained the reason for it.

A little grimace marred her features then, all of a sudden aware of my scrutiny, she shot me a guarded look almost daring me to say something.

I rolled my eyes at her and she chuckled.

"I am glad one of us can still find all of this funny," I remarked as we entered the room.

"Oh, I find it _hilarious _Seeker." Her smirk deepened darkly as she took in the scene before us.

I followed her gaze and halted abruptly with a sharp intake of breath. First Enchanter Fiona was standing at one end of the table, Leliana at the other, gazes locked together, so intent in staring each other down, neither turned. Judging by poor Cullen's sigh of relief at our appearance, they had been trying to kill one another with glares for quite a while.

_What in Andraste's name is Fiona doing here?_

Too late I realized I had given voice to that thought.

"I was invited to attend by the Herald," the diminutive elf drew herself up and still managed to look like she owned the place, despite all the trouble she had caused.

"Yes, you made that point abundantly clear," Leliana's voice was deceptively soft, "and I would like the Herald to tell us why."

After years of working side by side, I knew the redhead was dangerously close to one of her infamous rages. Leandra stepped forward briskly and threw her gauntlets down on the table with a clatter, in clear provocation. Leliana's gaze heated further.

_You are treading on very thin ice, now._

Truth be told, I itched to smack some sense into both of them. Whatever was eating at them, it had no place interfering with Inquisition business.

Leandra planted her hands on the table and leaned forward, suddenly serious.

"It is true, I asked her to be here. The Mages are, after all, an ally of the Inquisition and will play an essential part in closing the Breach."

I scoffed, shifting my stance.

_Allies indeed. More like letting hungry wolves jump into bed with us._

"What the Seeker is biting her tongue not to say, is that it remains to be seen how good of an ally you are," she pointed a finger at Fiona, who visibly stiffened.

"I did not attend this meeting to be _insulted_," the elven woman retorted, punctuating her words with hollow thuds of her staff, "the Mages..."

Leandra _moved_, faster than I had ever seen her move before and grasped Fiona's staff right above the Enchanter's grip. Green flames came to life with a loud crack around their hold, dancing without heat above their skin and along the carved wood.

Before I could unsheathe my sword, Leliana had put herself between me and the mage, a dagger in her grip, pressed hard against Fiona's neck. I could see a vein throb frantically under the pale skin as the cold steel touched it.

"Whatever you are doing _apostate_," she growled, "desist." The knife's edge dug in as she slightly increased its bite on Fiona's flesh and a rivulet of blood snaked down to stain her dress.

"It...isn't..me!" the Enchanter's voice was strained, droplets of sweat running from her brow, down her cheeks like tears. Her eyes wide with shock, she risked moving her head a fraction to steal a frightened glance at the dagger.

"Please," she begged, close to panic,"please let go."

I realized she was addressing Leandra at the same time as Leliana did and again the Spymaster reacted quicker than the rest of us, dropping the knife to the ground and pushing the Herald back with all her might.

Leandra stumbled backwards, her white knuckled grip loosening enough that Leliana could claw her wrist away from the staff.

I took a good look at her face then and the horror I saw written on it chilled me. Her eyes seemed to burn with the same green fire of the Mark, her pupils so contracted they were almost lost in the emerald storm raging inside her. Breath ragged like she had run for miles, she brought her free hand up to her face, as if to reassure herself she was real.

Leliana was still holding her other hand, gently now, unconsciously rubbing her thumb over the Mark. I saw its light diminish under her touch and when I looked back at Leandra she seemed to be breathing easier.

The gesture hadn't gone completely unnoticed; a look of speculation fleeting across Fiona's face, but whatever conclusion she came to, she kept it to herself.

Cullen pulled out a chair for the Mage and she dropped down on it with a grateful sigh, surreptitiously dabbing at her cheeks with one sleeve.

"How can you stand the pain?" Fiona rasped, "it's burning you inside."

"I..." the Herald straightened with an effort and Leliana let go of her, but her watchful gaze never strayed from the shorter woman and she looked like she expected Leandra to collapse into her arms.

"I...didn't expect that," she finished, evading Fiona's question.

"What exactly _was _that?" Josephine's voice sounded shaken and as I looked at the people scattered around the room, I perceived we all were. It was as if a chasm had opened below our feet. We had stared into the abyss and _something _had stared back.

"A surge of magical energy, I believe." Solas' voice shattered the awkward silence and we all jumped.

"How long have you been here Solas?" I asked, unable to keep a note of annoyance from my voice.

"Long enough." He stepped into the light and reached for Fiona's staff, "may I?"

She gave in to his request meekly, still unbalanced by what had transpired.

Solas delicately ran his fingers along the wood, murmuring softly to himself, then he suddenly hissed in surprise and turned the staff so we all could see what he had found. The impression of a hand was seared into its surface, the carvings around it distended as if melted.

"A rather powerful discharge it seems."

"You don't seem surprised," I replied slowly.

Before he could reply, Leliana stepped in.

"If you knew what was going on, why didn't you intervene?" She asked, eyes flashing.

He shrugged, unperturbed.

"I am by nature an observer," he responded, matter-of-factly, "besides I could not have done more than you did. Adding more magic to the mix would have only complicated matters."

"And we certainly don't want that, do we?"

While Solas held our attention, Leandra seemed to have regained her composure. She busied herself by donning her steel backed gauntlets, Leliana's attention still utterly focused on her.

She moved closer to Fiona and the Enchanter flinched as if struck. A shadow passed over Leandra's face.

"I apologize. I never meant you any harm."

The elven woman seemed to struggle with herself for several minutes then met the Herald's gaze with a visible effort.

"Neither of us wished this to happen," emotion flooded her voice, her features awash in a terror she could not control, "but I beg of you, never touch me again."

Leandra reeled, the hand she had extended in a gesture of peace, dropping at her side.

"Cassandra," her words were wintry cold, "please see that the First Enchanter has all the assistance she requires to ready her Mages. We march on the Temple as soon as I return," she shaply turned on her heel, motioning Solas to follow, "I need some fresh air."

* * *

><p><strong>The Nightingale<strong>

I quickened my step, afraid to lose them as they purposefully moved through the lenghthening shadows.

While Cassandra and the others had gathered around the war table, I had slipped out, unnoticed, trailing after Leandra and the elven mage.

_She didn't take her hand from mine._

All I could think of, as I shadowed the pair was how soft her hand had been in mine, the Mark tender and hot, like skin scalded from too much sun.

I remembered the little shocks cursing through me as our hands touched. It had been like...well, all I could compare it too was the way the air felt right before lightning hit.

I was so immersed in those thoughts, I didn't immediately notice they had stopped and almost walked into them.

I bit back an oath and pulled into deeper darkness, but close enough to overhear.

They were facing each other now and Solas forcefully planted his staff on the frozen ground. He murmured a word of power and a cold, blue light appeared on its tip.

"Your hand."

Leandra took off her glove and let him turn her hand palm up. He furrowed his brow as magic gathered at his fingertips, a nimbus of light growing brighter with ech passing breath.

The Mark blazed and Leandra hissed in pain, falling to her knees, head bowed.

Without thought I stepped out of my hiding place. If he hurt her again..

"Stop," her voice, commanding, froze me on the spot. Her eyes, focused despite the agony clearly etched in her words, held mine in a vice.

Solas inclined his head in my direction, waiting.

"She can hear what you have to say." Leandra spoke through gritted teeth, as the pain drew new lines around her eyes, "I owe her."

Solas clicked his tongue. "You humans. Always making matters more complicated than they need to be."

"Solas." A warning tone.

He sighed, releasing her hand and the tension went out of her. She rubbed her palms together as if trying to clean herself.

"it is as I suspected," he resumed, "the Mark is changing you, or perhaps you are changing it. It reacts to any magic performed in its vicinity now."

"Will it kill me?"

I flinched inwardly at her casualness.

He shrugged. "I cannot say. What I can say is that closing the Rifts makes it stronger, and therefore makes you stronger. You and it seem to function in symbiosis," he moved his hands in front of her face, pressing them together, "one cannot exist without the other." He let his hands drop.

"I think it knows what we are about to do," she whispered, so quietly I almost didn't hear, "if I listen hard enough..." She didn't finish.

Solas looked down at her, unperturbed.

"It is quite possible. You carry a shard of the Fade inside you, I think," he gently placed two fingers on her brow, "the Fade is a living thing, ever moving, ever shifting. You have been changed so that you are protected from its influence, yet your are far more attuned to its ebbing tides than most. You must learn to listen or pay the price of failure. Be on your guard, but not afraid. It is part of you as I said: I ask you, how can something that is in your nature harm you, unless you let it?"

He snatched up his staff suddenly and turned to go.

"Solas..." she stretched out a hand, pleadingly.

"I cannot guide you Leandra," his voice was kind as he moved away from us, "you must find the way yourself."

She sighed, still kneeling and rubbed at her eyes tiredly.

I stepped closer.

"Well, that was something, wouldn't you say?" She looked up at me and managed a feeble smile. I wanted to hold her, reassure her, but afraid she would again move away from me, I did neither.

"Let me come to the Temple," I heard myself say instead.

She was already shaking her head, before I had finished speaking.

"I need someone I can trust here, Leliana."

"Then leave Cassandra behind." I was growing angry again.

"No." She stood and despite being the taller one, I felt like she was looming over me, "I need you to guard my back." She moved closer and I could see her eyes shine in the encroaching darkness.

"All eyes, Leliana," she whispered "the storm is coming."

She grinned ferally then, the Mark lighting up and bathing her features in eerie pallor, turning them bestial and alien. When I registered she was gazing directly behind me, at the livid wound of the Breach, dominating the evening sky, I couldn't suppress a shiver.

She looked eager.


	6. Chapter 6 - Avalanche

**A/N: this chapter has been written on a flight across half the world and back to Italy. I edited it, but the devil hides in the details and besides I am sleep deprived. Have mercy on me and if you find any errors please point them out!**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing. Any input is greatly appreciated!**

AVALANCHE

**The Herald**

"You have done well," Cassandra said gently, her hands reaching up to help me slide off the sadde. I nodded tiredly, sighing in relief as my feet touched the ground. I could hear merry tunes coming from the tavern and people ran past us in jubilation to join the revelries.

"Have Solas make sure it's really done," I muttered. I glanced up at the sky, the heavens still scarred where the Breach had been opened, but apparently becalmed.

_Then why is this feeling not leaving me?_

It seemed absurd; I could still feel the magic energy gathered by the Mages at the Temple course through me like liquid fire, could still see the Breach closing at my command with an aftershock that had sent me sprawling and a flash of light so intensely white it had burned behind my eyelids for several minutes afterwards.

"Aren't you coming?" The Seeker gestured towards the Chantry, as men rushed to take our horses to the stables.

I lifted my head and saw they were all waiting at the building's entrance, all ready to clap me on a shoulder and tell me what a good job I had done. I picked out Leliana, my eyes drawn to her of their own accord and could read the strain in her posture even from a distance. I couldn't deal with any of them right then.

The feeling of dread in my guts grew and I shook my head.

"I need some time alone, Cassandra."

Her eyes grew concerned.

"I can send Solas to you..."

"That won't be necessary," _ He can't help. Or won't._

I tried to put on a reassuring expression, but could tell she wasn't fooled.

"I will see you later, Seeker."

I turned to go, then suddenly stopped and called over my shoulder, "it would be wise to double the guard tonight." I didn't wait for her response, but strode off purposefully, boots crunching loudly on the gravelly path. Maybe if I looked like I had somewhere to be, people would leave me alone.

The twinges of pain from the Mark spread up my arm as I walked towards my hut, thudding dully under my skin in time with each beat of my heart. I could feel the Mark like an abrasion on the palm of my hand, until the pain became so strong even the touch of the leather glove was too much to endure.

By the time I made it to the safety of what passed for my home, I was cradling my hand to my chest. I felt like the air was charged and heavy, weighting down on my skull, scratching behind my eyes. It drove me insane that nobody else seemed to notice it. The wind carried snatches of song and laughter throughout the village and I was sure the festivities would last well into the night.

I felt watched, hounded. There was a storm coming, yet the skies were clear.

Inside the little house, I tore at my gauntlet, frenzied. It fell to the ground, forgotten as I stared mesmerized at the Mark. Its brightness was enough to see by and push the lenghtening shadows of evening back.

_Maybe I should have Solas take a look after all._

I discarded the thought angrily. His words had hurt me. How could someone that knew the Fade so well refuse to show me the way?

I was terrified; I hadn't told any of them, but everytime I closed a Rift, I felt a little piece of myself slip away. The Mark grew stronger and hungrier and I felt myself more and more detached from the material world and a part of the other. What if one day I couldn't hold on to myself anymore?

With an oath I smacked my hand down on the nearby table, papers and maps scattering everywhere. Agony engulfed me.

_Good_.

Pain kept me grounded. It meant I was real.

Recognizing I was driving myself insane, I busied myself with small tasks. I decided against all sense to keep my armour on, something I would pay for dearly in the morning, should my hunch prove untrue. Considering the bile that kept rising in my gullet I doubted I could have slept either way.

I moved around, tiredness making me stumble in the near darkness. Fishing out a flint from the small bag at my waist I set about starting a fire.

_Well that was the plan anyway. _

I let the flint drop with a grunt of disgust. My hand was shaking so badly now that my grip kept slipping as my fingers cramped and I could not strike a decent spark.

I sat next to the cold fireplace, pulling my knees up to my chest with a sigh of defeat. I lowered my head down and curled my hand into a tight fist, so as not to see the Mark's baleful glow. I was really starting to hate the damn thing.

I bit the inside of my cheek as the pain kept increasing, the skin around the brand taut and raw as if something was scraping it away. I felt feverish.

I watched silently as the evening turned into night, the moon rising above, bathing the room in silver as its rays speared through the window.

A noise at the door pulled me into alertness. Frantically I pushed myself off the floor and reached for the sword I had laid down next to me. With a loud moan I jerked my hand back

_May as well fall on it, if I can't hold the bloody thing._

The door opened soundlessly, a figure draped in shadows on the threshold.

"Leandra?"

Of course it had to be her.

"Over here," I called, resigned. Leliana entered, muttering softly to herself. I heard the words _stubborn _and _fool _several times. I doubted they were meant as a compliment. She placed something carefully on the table and I caught the scent of stew. My mouth started watering despite my best efforts as hunger plunged its claws into me.

"Why are you sitting in the dark?"

I shrugged then realized she couldn't see me. "I am not precisely in the dark," I opened my hand and the greenish light of the Mark shone onto us. She gasped.

"You..." She sighed, exasperated then retrieved the flint I had cast aside. She crouched next to me and soon enough flames were roaring on the heart. I tilted my head back against the wall as their blaze warmed my face. I had not noticed how cold it had gotten until tiny pinpripcks, like a thousand needles seemed to graze my whole body. I stretched as my limbs regained feeling, studiously avoiding her disapproving stare.

She retrieved the food she had brought, then sat back down next to me, her shoulder brushing mine.

"Here," she pushed a bowl of stew, still steaming on my lap, "since you insist on sitting on the floor, we'll eat on the floor."

"Dear me," I smirked, "if Father saw me now he would have a fit."

I balanced the bowl awkwardly, cradling it in the crook of my arm, as I dug in with the wrong hand.

"It pains you again, doesn't it?"

I chuckled drily, "now I know why you are the Spymaster while I get to trudge through the mud and get saddle sore."

"Very funny."

We ate in silence for a while, the wood splitting and hissing in the fireplace the only sound. I set the bowl aside halfway through, the nausea that I had managed to forget for a while suddenly returning.

"We all thought you'll join us," she said quietly as the snippet of a merry reel poured through the window

"Somebody has to stay sober."

She gave me an amused smile, then when her eyes fell on the Mark, she returned serious.

"Can I see it?"

"Everyone and their dog has taken a look by now, I don't see why you shouldn't." I feigned indifference as I placed my hand in hers. She cupped trembling fingers around it, almost scared to hold it tighter.

_She probably thinks you'd bolt again._

One of her fingers softly traced the Mark and I felt rippling aftershocks race down my back. I looked on entranced as she took a vial from the folds of her cloak. She unstoppered it with a sharp twist and a herbal scent filled the room.

"What is it?" I asked as she gently rubbed some salve into my skin. The ripples increased, not exactly painful.

"Elfroot, camomille and lemon balm," she replied without raising her eyes. When she let my hand go, a pang of longing shot through my heart. She had a way of getting past my defences with the simplest of gestures. I wanted to stop it, I had to, and yet was starting to doubt that I could.

"Better?" Her gaze was suddenly intent on me again.

I opened and closed my hand experimentally and nodded. The pain had only abated and I doubted I could wield a weapon efficiently, but at least I didn't feel like my flesh was peeling off my bones any longer.

"Thank you," I murmured, my voice suddenly raw. Before I knew what I was doing, I had pushed her hood back, her fiery hair spilling over my fingers.

_As silky as I imagined._

"Leandra?" Her eyes had slightly widened in surprise, but she did not move away.

_Do you know how badly I have wanted to do this? _I thought.

Instead I said, more to keep mysef from going further than anything else, "did you know I was supposed to become a Templar?"

"Really?" There was genuine curiosity on her face. I closed my eyes, trying to keep temptation at bay as I felt her lean into my touch.

"Really," I confirmed. "The Trevelyans... I expect you know this, but we have always had strong ties to the Chantry," I felt her nod.

"What you may not know is that these ties are so strong and binding that each generation two children are given to the Chantry, one to serve in the clergy and one to become a Templar. I am not the heir, but neither was I chosen." I lost myself into the storytelling, as my hand kept stroking her hair.

"Then... why do you say you were to be a knight?" My eyes still closed, I imagined her furrowing her brow in furious thought. She was eager to find out about my past and hated not knowing. I fought down a bemused smile.

"My brother died a few days before he was supposed to be sent away for training. A hunting accident. The Revered Mother in Ostwick demanded an immediate replacement. I was next in line, lucky me." I couldn't keep bitterness from my voice.

She pulled back gently and I let my hands fall into my lap. Her head tilted slightly to the side, I could see the questions burning in her eyes.

"You can ask."

"This..." she smoothed my hair away from my eyes, "it hurts you. You didn't want to be a Templar then?"

"I was eight when they came for me. They dragged me, kicking and screaming from my mother's arms. I was a child, all I knew was that I was being thrown out in the unknown, because my _father _was bound by an oath so old nobody remembered much about it, save that it existed."

I closed my eyes and turned my head away, feeling a single tear escape down my cheek. After all these years, it still rackled and I still loathed my father.

Leliana shifted, and I felt her hand run up and down my arm comfortingly.

"Some nights," I whispered, "I wake up in a cold sweat, hearing my mother pleading to him, telling him to stop the knights," I grimaced, "he hadn't told her I was going to be given away like an unwanted dog, you see? It was to be a big secret. She just chanced to walk in on the deal."

Mother's arms had held me so tight, her heart fluttering against my ribs like a caged bird.

"I was in the right place at the wrong time," I concluded, "which seems to be a recurring theme." I glanced down at the Mark.

Leliana gently cupped my face and forced me to look up at her, "Leandra, I don't think..." She trailed off uncertain, "did you hear that?"

The music outside faltered as a distant wailing pierced the night, then it slowly resumed, just to die again as the sound was repeated. Not wailing, I relized with horror: screaming.

The pressure that had been building inside me suddenly released and I stood, so fast I almost knocked Leliana over.

"What is it?" She shook me by the shoulder, but her words were like white noise, drowned out by the warning shriek of the Mark inside my skull.

"The Elder One," I gasped, "he comes."

* * *

><p>We ran or more like slid down the stairs leading to Haven's main gates, only stopping once so that the redhead could fetch her bow.<p>

I crashed down the steps with abandon, my blood up and managed to add more than a few bruises to my ever gowing collection. I had tried to send Leliana off to round up the scouts, but she would not have any of that.

"You need someone to guard your back," she had stated and she was right. She had been too polite to mention my hand, but her looks had been enough.

_It had to be my sword hand._

It was true that I could wield a blade with both, but I had always favored my right hand. Now the longsword I brandished in the other felt heavy and wrong.

We told the villagers we encountered, wide eyed and panicked, to get off the roads and seek shelter. Sensibly enough most started heading towards the Chantry.

At the gates Cullen and Cassandra were organizing the men, the massive gates that led into town already barred.

"What is it Cullen?" I called out as we approached.

"The scouts report an army, descending from the high passes." I could tell from the way his eyes darted around that he was assessing our chances and he did not like what he saw.

"An army?" Josephine had joined us, "under what banner?"

"None." He replied gloomily.

_"None?_" her incredulity was reflected on every face.

A sudden banging just outside the doors grabbed our attention.

"Please, open the doors!" A muffled voice called. It sounded like... a _boy_? "I can't come in if you don't open!"

Seeing that everyone was rooted on the spot, I strode forward and lifted the wooden rod sealing the doors.

_What in the Maker's name?!_

It was indeed a youth, garbed in leathers that badly needed washing and the strangest hat I had ever seen. It almost completely hid his face, but I caught a glimpse of straw-yellow hair and blue eyes when he strode forward. Several armed men lay dead at his feet, no insigna on them to tell us who had sent them.

_But you know, don't you? _The Mark throbbed in response.

He walked through the slaughter lightly, unconcerned, like a curl of smoke gone almost as soon as you noticed it. The daggers he carried were very real and very bloody.

"You are she," he started, stopping in front of me like I was the most important thing in the world, "the Herald I mean."

I inclined my head, saying nothing. There was something about the boy I could not quite put my finger on, but the Mark seemed to _sing _in his presence.

"I am Cole. I have come to warn you," he talked so fast, as if afraid of being interrupted, "men have come to kill you."

_Yeah, tell me what's new._

"The Elder One... do you know him? He knows you. You took his mages and that made him very angry. He and the Templars have come for you."

"The Templars?" Cullen pushed past me and grabbed him by the front of his jerkin, almost lifting him off the ground, "is this the Lord Seeker's answer to our talks with the mages?"

"Let him go, Cullen," I put a hand on his arm and he reluctanly obeyed, "he doesn't know."

"Haven is no fortress," the commander said after a moment, "we won't last long in a frontal assault." He rubbed his temple with a gloved hand, deep in thought.

"Then we can't let them get too close," I responded, "we need to protect the trebuchets. If we hit them hard enough with them, they might turn tail."

_Fat chance. _Something told me the Elder One would not stop until one of us was dead.

"Cassandra, Dorian.." Leliana moved forward, blue eyes stormy, daring me to leave her behind. _Oh, fine. _"Leliana," she gave a smug smile. "We go to the trenches. Cullen, the defence of Haven is in your hands."

He bowed formally. "By your command, my Herald."

Only after, as my small party was racing towards the fighting, I realized they had all obeyed without question.

* * *

><p>Battles were always hot. No matter how freezing the weather, it felt like a sweltering day of summer to me, the sun hard on my back. This fight was no different, as we clashed with the vanguard of the Elder One's forces trying to oust our men from the trenches around the war engines. They seemed normal enough these soldiers, in the beginning, an assortment of Tevinter fanatics and common cutthroats. Then the Templars came, just as it felt we were pushing them back.<p>

When the first one appeared through the swirling snow, I wanted to vomit. He was a shambling thing, corpse pale and his body seemed to have grown, engulfing his armor, cracking it open where it could not be reshapen. The glint of red lyrium shone though the joints of his plate, and more crystals sprouted from his back like obscene ornaments.

Cassandra was at my side in a flash.

"What has been done to him?" She snarled, shaking with anger. One of Leliana's arrows whizzed by, piercing his shoulder. He didn't even flinch.

Memories of the future I had witnessed, where red lyrium corruption was rampant, filled my mind.

With a growl, I lunged, ignoring the others' call for caution. My blade descended, his rose and we locked swords, staring at each other through crossed steel. He opened a mouth with too many teth, wet tongue lolling out and hissed at me.

I kicked out, forcing him on his back foot, then danced out of the deadlock as he reeled and brought my blade around in a vicious arc, to split him from groin to collarbone. I was not as fast as I would have liked, but it would do.

More than a foot of steel entered him and yet no blood came out. His mouth stretched impossibly wide as he pushed himself deliberately on my weapon, crazed eyes filled with pleasure. I caught movement on my left as I was so engaged, a mad cackle, the whistling of a battleaxe.

Time slowed as I watched the razor sharp blade glitter in the moonlight, then with an howl of fury Cassandra barreled into the attacker. She bore him to the snowy ground, straddling him, and with a viciousness I had never seen her display before, she brought her shield down vertically two handed, again and again, until his head hung attached by mere shreds of tendon to the rest of him. "You. Will. Not. Touch. _Her_!"

I finally freed my blade and watched on as with a crack of splintering bone, the shield came down one last time and his head rolled free. I didn't think she was aware of having uttered those words, but I certainly had heard, and so had Leliana, who was staring with an expression halfway between shock and jealousy.

_Could the Seeker...?_

I could not complete the thought. One of our men stumbled towards me, bleeding but grinning.

"We are ready to fire ma'am!" I saw the soldiers manning the siege engine had managed to load it up as we sheltered them.

"Then bring the mountain down on the bastards."

As he turned to give the command, I moved to the Seeker's side and held out a hand. She grasped it gratefully and I hauled her to her feet.

"What has Lucius done?" She had a haunted, desperate look in her eyes, the same look I had seen on her face when I had found her in Alexius' dungeon. It wasn't the same Cassandra and yet it was.

I put an arm around her shoulders, steering her away from the bodies. Leliana's gaze went from her to me, equally heated.

_Oh, hell._

The trebuchet fired, with a snap of ropes and all of our eyes were drawn to the sky, to follow the boulder's flight.

It impacted on the side of the mountain with a deafening boom and tonnes of snow, ice and rocks thundered down into the Vale, burying many of the marching troops alive. More screams filled the night.

A cheer of defiance rose from our walls. My own shout of victory died on my lips as a huge shadow darted across the moon.

Leliana and Cassandra followed my gaze as I squinted at the sky, trying to find it again.

A pitch black shadow blotted out the stars. I pointed.

"Dragon!" The Seeker's warning sent the men scrambling away and she and the bard darted for cover as well. With the moon right behind it, I could pick out the glint of the scales and the red dots of its eyes, burning like embers.

"Leandra, _move_! Move, damn you!"

I stood frozen as death plummeted down on me.


	7. Chapter 7 - Nightfall

_**A/N: rating up to M for good. Cover the childrens' eyes. **_

_**Thanks for everyone that is reading and reviewing. Your feedback means a lot. I would like to know what you think, particularly of the last part of the chapter. This was really an emotionally charged thing for me to write. I also decided to not split the story into various arcs, for my convenience and yours.**_

NIGHTFALL

**The Nightingale**

I screamed as the dragon swooped down from above, black as the blackest night, the wind from his beating wings battering at my back as I dived for cover next to Cassandra.

"Move, Leandra! _Move_, damn you!" the Seeker yelled and as I fell to the ground, I half twisted to look behind my shoulder. Horrified, I watched as Leandra stared up at the descending beast, stock still as if petrified.

Its wings beat rapidly as it neared the ground and I got a glimpse of rows of glittering teeth, an open maw, wet ropes of saliva dangling to the ground. Then the air was sucked out of my lungs as the clearing where we had been standing burst into flames.

"_No!_"

I almost made it upright before Cassandra's weight pinned me down, her body pressing mine to the ground, the rivets of her breastplate digging painfully into the small of my back.

"Let me go!"

I squirmed, trying to throw her off me. Her hands closed around my wrists in an iron grip and I felt the dampness of melted snow against my cheek.

"There is nothing you can do!" she yelled in response, to be heard above the roaring inferno. Aghast, I stared at the blazing spot where Leandra had been standing, my vision blurring as tears began to well into my eyes. Again I buckled, trying to free myself.

"Let me go!" I moaned again, desperation tinging my words.

"And lose you both? I think not."

When her words registered I stopped fighting, remembering with shame the jealousy her actions had sparked only a few moments before.

_You are a fool, Leliana._

Sobs started racking my body as we watched the flames burn everythng in their path. The dragon beat its wings again and soared up high, leaving only destruction in its wake. I felt Cassandra pull me up, her hands gentler now.

"What are you doing?"

"We need to get to the walls before it comes back for another pass," she started pulling me away.

"Leandra…"

"There is nothing you can do," she repeated dully. Her face was stony, her jaw set, her words rang hollow in my ears.

I knew she was right, but I could not stop looking, hoping.

_She can't be dead. She can't be!_

I was transported back to Denerim, ghostly recollections playing before my eyes, the sky blackened by the raging fires, the air made scalding by the flames, boiling down my throat as I watched the Archdemon end my lover's life: Kyra's face merged with Leandra's in my mind's eye and I wailed as grief overcame me.

Suddenly, a wind picked up, seemingly pushing the flames together, packing them into a solid wall of oranges and yellows, compressing the space the fire occupied until it winked out of existence. My eyes widened in shock as what lay amid the blazing debris of the trebuchet was revealed. A gleaming barrier reared up, heat haze rippling across its surface and inside it Dorian stood, staff held aloft two handed. Behind him Leandra was picking herself up, bent double by what appeared to be a fit of coughing.

An inarticulate cry escaped my lips as I pulled back towards them. Cassandra who had been looking in the opposite direction, turned about and made to grab me around the waist, then stopped dead as she realized what had happened.

Not caring if she would follow, I started running and was reassured when I heard the thud of her footsteps right behind me.

Dorian waved his staff with a flourish and the barrier dissipated.

"Showoff," Leandra managed between gasping breaths.

I grabbed her by her shoulders and she lifted her eyes to meet mine. Her cheeks were smudged with soot.

"That was close," she grinned, but her gaze was terrified. I wanted to slap her. I wanted to pull her into my arms.

"If you are finished staring at her like you just found your lost love," Dorian approached, "I advise we run, and fast. Our new acquaintance is bound to be back for another try."

"And we won't be as lucky this time," the Seeker added. They were right, Dorian's features were haggard, drained. Holding himself up with the aid of his staff, he certainly didn't look like he could pull the same feat again, or at least not until he was rested and if we remained outside the walls we would be like sitting ducks.

I pulled one of Leandra's arms over my shoulder.

"Lean on me."

"Sounds familiar," her voice was stronger now, but she complied. Our eyes met again, she saw the tears still streaking my face and the arm she had sneaked around my waist tightened reassuringly.

Cassandra went to her other side and we half ran, half carried her towards the gates.

The sound of beating wings rose behind us.

"Whatever you hear," Cassandra instructed us, "just keep running like death is chasing us."

A wheeze came from Leandra and her shoulders shook. I realized she was laughing.

"That... was a terrible joke, Seeker," she managed, between ragged breaths.

We reached the gates just as the dragon's shadow overtook us. It shrieked in rage as we threw ourselves through the gap Cullen's men had left for us. The beast veered sharply, inches from colliding against the crenellated bastion. Its talons scraped the wall and chips of stone and mortar rained down on us.

"What in Andraste's name is that thing?" Cullen asked as he helped us through. We were all too winded to reply, but as we regrouped under the scant protection of the wall, the word Archdemon hung between us like a potent curse.

Leandra was leaning against the stone next to me. She did not need my support any longer, but her arm was still encircling my waist, her hand resting against my side. I felt my limbs still trembling, whether from the exertion of the run or the terror I had felt I could not say. She knew I was shaken though and kept silently by my side.

The silence grew heavier, then the dragon shrieked again, so high above I could not see it, no matter how much I tried.

Fire blazed in the middle of the village.

Just as panic threatened to run rampant among the men, she left my side and walked forward.

"I have not seen any darkspawn, have you?" Her voice was quiet, but it carried far into the night. She clapped her hands once: the sharp noise echoing against the walls shook us from the torpor of inaction.

The resolve I could read on her face spread to us all. _A born leader._

"Keep to the task at hand," she resumed, "let's get everyone safely to the Chantry."

"You heard her!" Cullen divided the men up in small units to better sweep the village, "the Chantry is the one building sturdy enough to offer protection from that beast," he Drew his weapon, its deadly glint reflected into his eyes, "at this point, let's make them work for it."

Without another word he moved into the night, the other soldiers following squad by squad as more fires lit the darkness, casting misshapen shadows on the fresh snow. Soon the noise of ringing steel filled the night as battle was joined once more.

"We should go too," Leandra bared her sword, the long blade splotched with dried blood. Silently we filed behind her and disappeared like ghosts into the darkness.

* * *

><p><strong>The Herald<strong>

I still could not believe the plan had worked, even as I saw the dragon bank sharply against the white glare of the mountainside.

"Go! Now!" I waved my blade and the others scattered as I started running myself, head hunched between my shoulders, crouching as low as possible as I moved to offer the smallest of targets. The beast flew mere meters above me and I saw raw energy gather inside its open maw. I threw myself to the side, hitting the ground hard as an explosion tore the place I had been standing on. Snow went up in a flash of steam and the earth beneath turned to smooth glass under the great heat.

As I rolled back to my feet, I swore. My sword had tumbled away and I twisted around, eyes darting in mad search. I caught its shape at the base of the trebuchet, the metal sparkling darkly in the wavering light of the fires. At the same time movement flashed behind one of the wooden beams, a flash of red, the corner of a mauve cloak.

_Leliana?_

What did she think she was doing? My orders had been very clear. I just hoped, for both our sakes she would hold her peace. Showering the dragon with arrows seemed like a horrible idea. Not that my plan to bait it had been much better, I admitted belatedly.

The beast landed heavilly behind me, making the ground shake and I was forced to give it my full attention. Up close it was even more terrifying: I craned my neck up to take in its massive body: its scales were rotten in places, revealing the glistening muscle and bone beneath, its wings so shredded on the edges I wondered how it could hold itsefl aloft, its eyes partially blinded by milky cataracts. It may have been majestic once. Now it was... _corrupted_.

The dragon opened its jaws wide and shrieked, its foetid breath making me gag. I bent forwards, dry heaving and saw Leliana sneak closer.

_You heroic idiot. _As much as I wanted to be angry with her, I could not keep affection from my thoughts.

"Enough!" A powerful, commanding voice filled the clearing. The dragon cowered.

The voice's owner came forward, ponderously slow, stepping amid the flames as if they could not touch him. The Mark turned to liquid agony in my veins and I bit down on my tongue.

"Pretender," he adressed me like I was a slug under his boot, a loathsome thing he was forced to deal with, "you toy with forces beyond your ken. No more."

I stood as tall as I could and spat the blood welling in my mouth at his feet.

"Whatever you are, I do not fear you."

_Wrong. On the contrary, I am about to wet myself._

"Brave words," he sneered, "humans always hurl them at darkness. Once they were mine, but they are all lies." He approached and I had to tilt my head back to meet his baleful gaze. He must have been more than two meters tall, his frame skeletal.

His face was horribly scarred, ancient, and was that red lyrium potrouding from his jaw? His eyes told me he had been human once, but now was so far removed from mortality he could not even pass for a distant cousin.

"Know me, know what you have pretended to be." His words had the cadence of a spell, they held me in place.

"Exalt the Elder One, the will that is Corypheus." His skeletal finger pointed at me, then at the ground, "you will kneel."

_At last, _I thought as a great weight lifted from my shoulders, _I can give a proper face to my nightmares._

"My obeisance goes only to the Maker," I snarled, the Mark thrumming so hard against my skin, it felt like it wanted to tear me apart "I will not bow to you!"

"You resist," he seemed almost intrigued as if he could not understand why I would, "you will always resist." He lifted his hand, a strange spheric device grasped in his claws, "it matters not. I came for the Anchor. The process of removing it starts now."

"This is your fault _Herald_," his voice dripped with contempt as he flung his other hand in my direction, "you interrupted a ritual years in planning, and instead of dying you stole its purpose."

Crimson lightning coursed through the orb's surface, then into his fingers. An invisible hand seemed to grab my wrist forcing it upward, my hand splayed in a painful cramp. Green energy met scarlet and for a moment bridged me and Corypheus together.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun it was over and I collapsed to my knees squeezing my burning hand with the whole one. Through a veil of tears I saw Leliana dart to a closer shadow, arrow nocked, bow drawn.

Heart thundering in my throat, I shook my head as if to clear my vision. I prayed she understood the message.

"I do not know how you survived, but what marks you as "touched" what you flail at Rifts, I crafted to assault the very heavens." Corypheus spat irately, letting his hand drop. "And you dared use the Anchor to undo my work. The gall!"

"It's a boon from Andraste! She saved my life!"

I sounded assured but did I really believe that, after what I had heard him say? He claimed he was the Anchor's architect, that the Maker and the Sacred Lady had played no part in this tragedy. I cursed myself for a fool. Whatever the truth, I would not let him see my faith crumble.

I could ask these questions later, if I survived.

"Then your lady wishes me to kill you, for her _boon _is a beacon I cannot let escape." He quickly walked to me and seized my wrist, his talons digging into my flesh and he lifted me up without effort until my feet left the ground. I screamed as his grip crushed my bones against each other, blood seeping from the cuts his razor-sharp claws drew on my skin.

"I once breached the Fade in service of another, to serve the Old Gods of the Empire _in person_. I found but chaos and corruption, dead whispers. For countless years I was confused. No more." He lifted me higher. "I have gathered the will to return, under no name but my own, to champion withered Tevinter and correct this blighted world. Pray that I succeed for I have seen the throne of the Gods and it was empty."

He flung me away like a defective tool and I flew full force into the wooden armature of the remaining trebuchet. My ribs bruised, and more blood climbed up my throat. Breathing made my eyesight narrow to a darkened tunnel. I was pretty sure something was broken inside.

"The Anchor is permanent. You have spoiled it with your stumbling. I will begin again, find another way to give this world the nation the and God it requres!"

Again he advanced on me, this time ready to strike mortally.

"As for you, I will not suffer even an unknowing rival. You must die." He faltered.

An arrow stood quivering next to his foot. Leliana stepped up deliberately beside me, another shaft already drawn to her cheek.

I dusted myself off and finally recovered my sword, pointing the blade at his chest. My eyes were drawn to the black sky behind him as a flaming arrow soared up high, flames unravelling like a long banner, a beacon of hope.

"You think I faced you looking for a fight? But that is not the reason I have kept you talking." Terror fled from my heart for now I knew our scheme had worked as hoped.

"Enjoy your victory while you still can. Here is your prize!"

With my heel I kicked the brake, keeping the trebuchet's arm in tension.

The stone released, hissing through the air, rocketing towards the mountain. I grabbed Leliana's arm unceremoniously and we ran as one last avalanche buried Haven.

As we dashed madly onwards, the earth opened beneath our feet swallowing us whole.

The last thing that flashed through my mind before the blackness of oblivion claimed me, was Corypheus' astonished gaze.

* * *

><p>"Leandra, please," a hand was shaking me, then I felt fingers against my cheek, "<em>please<em>, you have to wake up."

Slowly I opened my eyes, my vision blurry as if I was underwater. A worried face came into focus, red hair hanging over me like a fiery courtain, blue eyes wide with panic.

"Ahhh," I brought a hand to my head with a grimace. My temples gave a painful throb, "what happened?"

Leliana put her arm around me, helping me to a sitting position. "You tell me," she made a swooping gesture with her other hand, indicating our surroundings.

_Shit._

I stood with some difficulty as my ribs grated against one another. _ Yes, one is definitely loose, _and took in my surroundings.

An apocalyptic landscape greeted me, rocks falling away into utter darkness a few meters from where we stood. Others seemed to be hanging haphazardly on nothing, revolving slowly in the air. The sun, or what passed for it, was a pale thing with no force nor heat. Something in the distance drew my attention and I gasped.

"The Black City." I whispered, dread making my heart heavy. Solas had told me about it, the only never changing point in all of the Fade. It was said, that it had been golden once, pure and full of beauty and wonder before the Tevinter Magisters had spoiled with their hubris.

I felt instinctively that my journey would end there. The Anchor throbbed in empathy.

_Not yet time._

Leliana's next words brought me back to the present.

"No," she said, confusion clouding her eyes, "this is…Lothering."

We exchanged a startled glance. "I think," I said slowly, "we are not seeing the same thing."

"How do we remedy that?" from the underlying tension in her voice, I knew whatever she was seeing was troubling her greatly.

I thought back at my time with the Chantry and the Templars and at studies I had not dredged up from the bottom of my memory in years. Not that my instructors had been very forthcoming, seemingly thinking that even reading the wrong passage in a book could lead to corruption while being utterly dependent on their caches of lyrium.

Other memories came unbidden, of forest green eyes, full of knowledge, yet eager for discovery, of whispered conversations in the heart of the night, clandestine meetings in the echoing halls of Ostwick's Circle Tower. I shut them away ruthlessly as a shadow passed over my face. I would not think of _her_ in this blasted place. I could not.

Words spilled out unbidden, echoes of past conversations I was unable to stop.

"The Fade is malleable," I replied, "it is possible that we stand in the same place, and yet we couldn't be farther from each other. This realm, it… shapes itself around those who enter it, adapts to the seer's eyes."

Her brows drew down in thought. "Has Solas told you this?"

I nodded, saying nothing, afraid she would hear the lies on my tongue. I would explain, but later. I needed her to understand. Besides, my knowledge didn't extend much further than the words I had just uttered.

I could tell from her gaze she knew something was on my mind, but I could do nothing about it. I was not as schooled in intrigue as she was, emotions making my mask slip.

"I trust you with my life, you know that _éntéte_." She said suddenly, her free hand going to my marked one. The Anchor blazed as her fingers sought mine. I smiled inwardly, but it was a bitter grimace most of all. After all I had brought us here.

I said as much and she shook her head.

"The last thing I remember was the snow closing down on our heads," her eyes were unfocused in recollection, "if not for this," she tightened her hold on my hand, our fingers now entwined, "we would be dead. You saved us."

I couldn't help laughing.

"If this is saving, maybe I should not try so hard next time."

Her smile was amused, despite it all, "maybe not the Fade next time, _oui_?"

I gently freed my hand.

"I think I need to see what you do to get us out."

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, detaching myself from the outside, looking inward, sinking into myself. My ribs pressed painfully against muscle, and with every agonized breath flashes of red moved behind my eyelids. I saw the pain, in my mind, the one from my broken bones merging with the emerald shards of the Mark that cut like countless daggers into my very being. It was a fire, a roaring furnace, its heat like that of the hottest desert.

I wasn't aware I had cupped Leliana's face until she let out a soft moan.

"You burn like the sun," she whispered in wonder. I made to pull back, afraid of hurting her, but her hand went over mine, pressing it to her face, trapping it. Her skin was cool against my fevered skin.

Whiteness filled me, then the Fade _shifted_.

The first thing that hit me, was the smell of charred meat. I opened my eyes, as she released her hold on me and my hand dropped to the hilt of my sword.

"Is this what you were seeing?" I asked. I felt my stomach heave. I wanted to vomit.

Bodies lay in heaps around us, the sweet smell of decay heavy in the air. What once had been a village was now a charnel house, only those buildings that had been made of stone still standing.

Some bodies were nailed, head downward on crosses along the village's road, the bloated, ruptured flesh a feast for maggots and crows.

"No…" her face was horror stricken, "this must be…what the Darkspawn did once we left." She shut her eyes as if by sheer force of will she could make it all go away.

"We must not linger," I gestured to the inn, as it appeared the only path we could take, "we are here in the flesh. This," I raised my hand, "offers some protection I believe, but you…" I did not finish the sentence, my heart seizing with worry.

Spurred into action her face became stony resolve and side by side, we approached the building warily, entering its shadowed interior. The inn was dark and lifeless, the fireplaces cold, but it appeared the carnage had stopped at the door.

_Weird._

Something resonated wrongly inside me, like a discordant note. The door crashed shut behind us and we jumped. I bared my blade as footsteps made the floorboards creak.

A figure, armor spattered with blood and viscera, helm under one arm emerged from the shadows. On the chestplate, beneath all the gore, a griffon reared proudly.

"My love," the stranger called softly, "I knew you'd come."

A noise halfway between a sob and a gasp made me turn towards Leliana.

"Kyra?" Her voice trembled, disbelieving and she took a step forward. How could she be so sure, when the newcomer's face appeared to me like ever shifting sand, features blurred and indistinguishable.

"Yes," the woman, for a woman it was, strode forward and took her into her arms. Leliana sagged against her, heart wrenching cries shaking her whole being.

I averted my eyes. I understood, but it still hurt and then I chanced to look at the floor. Despite the eerie light of the Fade that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, we still cast a shadow. But Kyra did not.

"Leliana," I snarled, raising my weapon, "stand back. She is not who she claims to be."

The redhead made no move, her expression dreamlike, her eyes glazed over.

Kyra, or whoever she was moved like a snake, swatting my blade aside with a hand and hitting me on the side with her other. I screamed, letting go of the blade and grabbed at my chest, as blood rose in my gorge.

"You come into my realm," she hissed, hitting me again. I went down and she kicked me savagely, "and threaten me?" Her voice had taken a bestial quality, like that of a snarling predator. I rolled out of her way, until I hit the wall and could move no further. Kicks kept raining down on me and I covered my head with my hands as more bruises and cuts wounded my flesh.

"I will make her my plaything," she licked her lips lasciviously and bent down, grabbing me by my throat. I saw then, or she let slip, her mask, the demonic visage under her pretense fully revealed.

I could not blame Leliana for being ensnared. It would have happened to me, had the face belonged to…

My thoughts were squeezed out of me along with life itself as the demon started chocking me, her talons opening the flesh of my neck like paper.

I screamed and raised my marked hand to her face, trying to dislodge her. Leliana's dreamy countenance filled my every thought. Whatever the cost I would not let her fall prey to this fate. I needed her to survive, I realized. The world needed her to return. Emotions I had tried to suppress, swelled inside me. The Anchor throbbed and I did what I never had done before, or not completely.

I surrendered myself and became its vessel.

Hand covering her face, I dug my fingers into the soft tissue of the demon's eyes, the Mark burning so brightly I had to slit my own, lest I be blinded. The demon shrieked as smoke rose from her burning, sizzling skin and I heaved her off me.

Leliana shook herself as if waking from a nightmare and gave an anguished cry as she took in my bloodied armor. I tottered to my feet as the demon reeled, aflame, melting, her shrieks ringing in my ears.

Without a word I rushed as fast as I could to the bard and gathered her in my arms, acting on sole instinct, the Anchor singing through my veins. I _was _the Anchor.

Something unlocked inside me, a door opened and we plummeted through.

The Anchor burned like a falling comet, it flensed my skin, melted my flesh, bones splitting, marrow cooking within.

I was it and it was me.

We fell into the unknown and I died a thousand deaths.


	8. Chapter 8 - Under A Black Sun

_**A/N: I think I won't be able to update again this week. I apologize in advance. Hopefully you'll like where I am taking this. Your feedback is as usual more than welcome. The story is getting more complex now, so if you catch any discrepancies please let me know that too!**_

_**Finally, the first part of the chapter was a bit different in my head, then someone came along and asked the right questions. Thank you. You know who you are.**_

UNDER A BLACK SUN

**The Seeker**

I made my way through the poorly lit caves we were now obligated to call home, sure I would find Leliana poring over her maps in the usual place.

I had been outside, on the cliff we used as a lookout, when she and her scouts had returned from another day of fruitless search. I felt frustration grow inside me and it must have been clear on my face, because both soldiers and civilians scurried hastily to get out of my path.

I had prayed this was the day she would return triumphant, but it seemed the Maker had turned a deaf ear to my plea.

_Leandra, wherever you are, it's time for you to come back to us._

My heart ached at the thought of her. Since one of our patrols had found Leliana alive, but alone and desperate, we had fallen prey to a waking nightmare. Coypheus' forces had hounded us relentlessly after Haven, forcing us higher and deeper into the Frostbacks. The Inquisition was reeling, bloodied. Nobody said it, but we had lost our leader and as more and more Rifts appeared over the land, the hour grew desperate.

Losing her had been like losing Anthony all over again. I banished those thoughts as I approached the Spymaster's quarters. She had hung a heavy cloak across the entrance for privacy and I pushed the fabric aside, ducking to enter.

I found the bard, as I had imagined, crouched over unrolled parchments that took up most of the little space's floor. Her back was to me as she dipped a quill in the ink jar holding down a corner of the map. She added a few notes to what looked like the depiction of a forest.

"We are moving eastward on the morrow," she said, without raising her head.

I didn't reply and just went down on my knees next to her, staring at the map before us. She rubbed at her eyes tiredly. I could tell she had not slept again, or at least not enough.

She went on scribbling on the parchment, utterly focused, until with an exasperated sigh I grabbed her wrist. The quill scratched the paper, and ink spread over her words.

"You are pushing yourself too hard," I grated, suddenly angered. She was throwing herself into the search too heavily.

For every day she spent gathering and collating the news her network brought her, she spent as many out in the wilds, searching.

I glanced behind her, at her quiver propped against the cave's wall. It came back empty after every foray and Harding told me Leliana fought with unprecedented savagery as if the death of those who pursued us could bring her closer to finding Leandra.

She jerked her wrist away from my grasp.

"What would you have me do, Seeker?" her eyes were dangerously narrowed, the fury that now always seemed to simmer inside her, close to the surface.

I opened my mouth to reply but she went right on.

"Would you have us abandon the search? In that case we may as well slit our own throats!" She started rolling up her maps with jerking, furious motions. "We can't succeed without her," she went on, making a visible effort to keep herself in check, "I can't..."

Anger made my words thick on my toungue, as my mood matched hers.

"Do you think I do not care? I feel like I have lost a sister, Leliana, but it's been _weeks_," my tone grew softer as I reached out to her, my hand grasping her shoulder so she had no choice but to face me and meet my eyes. "We need you. I need you. There are a million things that needed fixing yesterday and require us both. I want her back as much as you do, but stretching ourselves thin will not accomplish anything."

She stood suddenly and made to get past me, eyes downcast. I knew then, I was stricking a nerve.

"I have to brief the scouts," she said dully.

I got up myself and threw out my arm, barring her way.

"You aren't listening are you?" I jabbed a finger against her chest, pushing her back a step.

"Let me through," she snarled, threateningly, her blue eyes hard, her whole body tense.

My own temper fraying, I shook my head with vehemence. "Not until you listen!" I retorted, "do you think Leandra saved you so you could throw your life away in empty vengeance? You don't sleep, you barely eat, you throw yourself into danger recklessly," I realized I was shouting and didn't care.

She tried to get a word in, but I continued, relentless.

"She needs you now more than ever to help me keep the Inquisition together, so that when she returns we can strike back! The men look up to us for guidance, Leliana!"

"I don't understand why she saved me, Cassandra!" she growled back, eyes ablaze, "why, why would she do that when she knows she is the only one that stands a chance against Corypheus?"

_Because she loves you._

"You can ask her once she is found," I said keeping that other thought to myself, my tone softer as I placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. It wasn't my place to tell her the rest.

"Do you think she lives?"

_I do not know. _

"I have faith."

In truth, it was all I had left.

She gave a tight nod and I saw her eyes clear as she reined in her emotions. She stood straighter, renewed purpose apparent in her stance.

"Thank you, Cassandra. I..." She trailed off.

Someone cleared their throat behind us and we turned, to find one of her scouts standing to attention in the doorway. Her eyes went from me to Leliana and, sensing the volatile mood, she hesitated.

The redhead made a soothing gesture, "what is it, Harding?"

"Ma'am," Harding started diffidently, as if unsure how we would react to what she had to say, "there has been a sighting."

She didn't need to say any more as we scrambled to collect our gear. Leliana stopped suddenly with a deep frown.

"What is it?" I asked, impatient.

"My cloak...I thought..." She gave an annoyed shrug and slung her bow across a shoulder. "No matter," she finished curtly.

Without another word, we filed behind Harding as eagerness quickened our steps.

* * *

><p><strong>The Nameless One<strong>

I leaned against a barren tree, my limbs shaking, fatigue making every step slower, harder.

Flashes of fragmented memories rushed across my vision. My hand throbbed painfully, as it always did when I stopped for long. Something I did not understand hurt me, tugged at me, onward and upward. I stopped only when exhaustion overwhelmed me and I collapsed in fitful sleep.

I only stopped when I tried to remember.

The agony spread from my hand to my temples and I vomited a stream of steaming bile mixed with blood onto the snow. My throat was raw, my insides felt as if they were coated in broken glass. I pushed away from the trunk and started moving again.

The unknown force commanding me would not have it otherwise.

The pain in my hand abated, as if appeased I was obeying this instinct that drove me deeper into the mountains.

As I walked, scattered recollections emerged, like splashes of colour in an otherwise gray world. There had been... a woman? Green eyes, hair like spun gold. She had talked to me of prices to pay as she placed a broken sword into my waiting hand, in a place that was and wasn't at the same time.

"Yelena."

The word tumbled unbidden off my lips and shards of emerald light dug into my eyes. I screamed, falling to my knees, holding my side as my mangled ribs grated against each other.

_Don't remember! _My thoughts ran like frightened animals. _Not now!_

I pushed myself onward, crawling on the frozen ground till I could grasp at a dangling branch and pull myself upright.

I made tortuous progress, climbing ever up, crawling on all fours like a beast when pain became unbearable. Trees grew few and far between and the scant protection they had offered from the howling wind disappeared.

I shivered and drew the cloak the wind had streamed behind me closer to my body, like a shroud. I tugged the hood forward, to save my eyes from the shimmering glare of the snow.

A familiar scent enveloped me. My brow furrowed as the image of a young man pressing the cloth into my arms emerged from the fog of my memory. He had mentioned something about wanting to help.

I shrugged. It had been a dream, maybe.

Time became meaningless as I trudged along the silent slopes. When thirst drove me off my course, I let myself fall to the ground next to a narrow stream and broke the ice with my fists to fill my mouth with icy water.

I stared then for a while, at the image that gazed back at me from the water's rippling surface. I pulled the hood down to see better. My features were gaunt, my skin pale. I twisted my neck to observe with mild curiosity, the deep scratches that marred the skin from throat to collarbone.

I could not recall how I had gotten those. I fingered one distractedly and fresh blood welled against my fingertips. My other hand went to my hair, an unruly mass of tangled brown that brushed my shoulders. Had I always worn it so long?

_Unimportant._

My hand burned, a sudden reminder that I had lingered too long and I picked myself up, resuming my march. I knew I had to be somewhere, just did not know where.

Hours passed, or at least the light changed, the snow's whiteness dimming then becoming an intolerable glare again.

I saw them first through the confused haze of a veil of tears, an icy gale whipping my face.

People, descending towards me from high above. They were small black shapes against the shimmer of frost and at that distance looked like ants.

I quickened my pace, hopeful they would provide me with the answers I knew I needed.

Then, the first arrow flew.

* * *

><p><strong>The Nightingale<strong>

We moved as swiftly and silently as possible across the frosted ground. My breath came in short, ragged gasps, echoed by that of the men.

My heart thundered in my ears, blotting out every other sound. It beat faster with each passing hour as we neared the location Harding had described. Nobody spoke, but the excitement among our company was palpable. We had tried to keep the aim of our mission quiet, but word had spread like wildfire.

The Herald had been sighted.

I tried to keep my own emotions under a tight leash, conscious I needed my senses to be as sharp as the daggers concealed about my person.

Cassandra, who was striding beside me, suddenly raised a gloved fist and the small column came to a halt. As the space around us went deadly still, I heard the cruel snap of bowstrings, a funeral dirge riding the breeze.

Silently, the Seeker made a sweeping gesture and the soldiers fanned out, crouching low and advancing cautiously as the soft whisper of bared steel filled the air.

We moved ahead, and suddenly a narrow vale opened below us.

The unfolding scene made my blood run cold.

We crested the cliff and came up behind a line of Templar archers. A lone figure confronted them, empty handed. The wind picked up suddenly, lifting clouds of frozen crystals that swirled and danced around us. Its icy reach pushed back the stranger's hood.

_Leandra!_

My heart missed a beat.

The others had seen her too, still recognizable despite the blood and dirt that covered her features. A scream went up along with our banners as the line rushed forward, glinting steel and whizzing arrows accompanying the charge. Some of the Templars spun around, too late as our line collided with theirs, with a sound like that of thunder.

"Why isn't she moving?" I screamed to Cassandra as panic stole my breath.

"Her leg!" the Seeker shouted, nimbly dancing back from a blow that would have split her in two. I let loose and watched with satisfaction as my arrow found the throat of her assailant.

As the battle's flow brought most of the Templars away from us, I could see what Cassandra meant.

Leandra was heavily favoring one leg as her other thigh had been deeply pierced by crossbow bolt. She was staring down at the blood pooled at her feet, her expression vacant.

An enemy knight charged ahead towards her and even as I drew a fresh arrow to my cheek, the feathers a soft caress on my skin, I knew I was a fraction too slow.

Time froze and I gasped as she went from the utmost immobility to violent motion. As the sound of battle died around us, she caught his descending hand by the wrist and the dry snap of bone seemed to shatter the sudden quiet.

Her other hand darted forward, finding the narrow strip of throat his armour left exposed and her fingers contracted, ripping flesh and muscle out.

The knight gurgled once, blood spraying down his chest, warm droplets showering her face.

Leandra let go and he collapsed at her feet, dead before he even touched the ground.

She stared mesmerized at her fingers, and I could not read he expression. Bringing her bloodied hand up to her face, she sniffed the crimson fluid. I shivered.

"Leandra," I called softly, moving to her. A hand, gentle but restraining, touched my arm.

"Slowly, Leliana." Cassandra moved next to me, her eyes never leaving Leandra. I noticed she had not sheathed her sword. The skirmish now over, most Templars dead or dying, our soldiers gathered around us. Some fell onto their knees at the sight of our Herald, as if they were in the presence of Andraste herself.

"Steady now," the Seeker murmured softly. She left my side and stepped ahead, intentionally placing herself in front of me.

"Cassandra?" my voice faltered as I caught a glimpse of Leandra's face. Her eyes were distant, the gold flecks amid the blue more prominent, her pupils so small she seemed blind. Her stare gathered the light. It shone, passionless, unblinking, like that of a wolf poised to strike.

"Hush," the Seeker dragged a foot forward, then ever so slowly put her blade on the ground. She stood, hands raised, palms out, welcoming.

Leandra's eyes flicked to the sword and her stance relaxed visibly.

"You can go to her I think," Cassandra said without turning, unable or unwilling to let the Herald out of her sight for even one moment.

I pushed past her, fighting down the urge to run forward. As I covered the few meters separating us, my heart went out to Leandra. She was clearly wounded. She looked lost. I gulped down tears when I caught sight of the rents on her neck. Her eyes met mine and she blinked slowly as if trying to focus. I was aware with dim surprise that she was wearing my cloak.

All questions fled my mind as I reached her, my hands lifting to follow the line of her jaw and cup her face with the softest of touches.

"You are back." Disbelief tinged my words.

She opened her mouth, her voice a low, painful growl as if it had been unused for months.

"Who are you?"

My world shattered.


	9. Chapter 9 - Reunion

_**A/N: this chapter originally was part of a longer one. I feel however, that Leandra's POV when she is found and her dream, would sort of get lost in the action that comes later on, if I left it as a single entity like it was originally planned. I guess you will let me know if this isn't the case, but I am confident this part can stand alone, on its own merits. And yes, I did manage to fix it this week! Yay!**_

_**Also- I don't know if some expected Leandra and Leliana's relationship to develop quicker. In that case I hope you will stick with me regardless, I think we all know what the ultimate destination is, but I find the journey far more interesting.**_

_**As usual feedback is treasured and valued. And if you catch any errors, let me know!**_

_**Enjoy.**_

REUNION

**The Nameless One**

"Who are you?"

My voice hurt, coming out.

I did not remember how long it had been since I had spoken to another. Her fingers pressed harder against my skin, her hands shaking badly. Her scent was strong around me. Idly I wondered why the cloak I wore smelled the same.

Foggy memories splashed color into my mind. My hands tinted with red, but not that of blood. Hair, the feeling of silk sliding through my fingers.

My hand gave an agonizing throb and I moaned, pulling back from her touch. Her eyes widened, full of fear.

If she was afraid for me or of me I could not tell. I brought my hand up and stared at its palm. Green, eerie light seemed to be encased just under my skin.

I remembered the pain, but had that sickening glow always been there?

My head swam, my vision blurred as I felt the heat under my skin increase. I took a step back as an unknown emotion skittered across the void inside me. I did not want to hurt her. Above all else that certainty filled me.

My wounded leg gave way suddenly as I shifted more of my weight on it, the barbs along the bolt's shaft digging deeper into muscle, grappling onto bone.

Startled, I slowly toppled backwards and instinctively reached out towards her to steady myself. Her hand shot out and caught mine, my burning flesh so hot I expected her to yell in horror as her skin caught fire.

_A woman's face, but horned, demented, distorted by rage and lust and the want for a living host. Fingers digging into flesh, unfathomable heat, eyeballs running like molten wax._

Whiteness stole my vision as I felt my body shift in a motion I could not stop. I panted, blind, the only thing that kept me anchored to myself that hand grasping mine, fingers entwined almost painfully tight. The hand didn't let go.

As the rush of blood in my ears receded, my eyesight returned, like a veil lifted from my brow. Her face came into focus again. It had started snowing and little flakes of ice stung my open eyes, touched down frostily on my cheeks and melted immediately.

She was without a cloak, I noticed and shivering. A dusting of snow hid the redness of her hair.

She had caught me as I fell, I realized and eased me as gently as possible on the hard ground, so I would not hurt myself further. I was laying, or more half sitting against her kneeling form. I turned my head towards her chest and her scent overpowered my senses, mixed with that of wet leather and steel and lapping powder.

"How long?" It seemed I had been resting against her for hours.

"Just a few minutes," her tone had a trembling quality to it I did not understand, but her touch was firm and equally gentle as she smoothed my hood away from my face with her free hand, her other still gripping mine. My hair tumbled out, unruly and wild and her hand tugged a strand softly. She looked at me for a long moment, her eyes brimming with tears.

I untangled our fingers and wonderingly touched her cheek. My brow furrowed. I felt like I should know her, but pain resonated through me when I tried to recall why.

My fingertips came away wet and I brought them to my mouth. Salt and grief coated my tongue. My memory was jolted, it rebounded on an impenetrable, jade wall rising to bar entrance to my own self.

_Not yet, _an unknown voice seemed to whisper_._

"Why do you cry?"

She shook her head sadly and her tears fell more copious. Another figure loomed behind her and touched her shoulder kindly. This had been the one that had greeted me, laying her sword at my feet when I had been ready to tear her apart like I had done with the Templar.

That word echoed in my ears. An image of a flaming sword tumbled through my mind. Had I lived under its rule once? It hurt so much to remember.

The newcomer's stern expression softened as she saw the distress etched on the redhead's face.

"Leliana," she crouched beside us, "we must move. There may be other Red Templars nearby."

_Red Templars?_

Laboriously I pushed myself up to glance at the one I had ended and felt her arm move to support me.

I could see now, a dim reddish glow come from the eye slit of his helmet, and what I had mistaken for armor plates were red scales of a hard substance that shone like crystal.

He was so close I could touch him and I leaned forward to do so. My fingers brushed against that scarlet coating and a jet of fire shot through me. A red cloud rose inside me, whispering of death and unspeakable acts of evil. An impossible future that should never have been, bodies consumed in scarlet stone. The stench of madness thick in the air, the memory of it so vivid I felt I had lived that nightmare.

"They were betrayed," I croaked hoarsely, as stolen images, seen from another's eyes danced in front of me, "so lost. Why did they hurt me? I am as lost as they were." I didn't realize I had spoken until I saw the startled glances the two women exchanged.

The second woman, her warlike demeanor far more evident than that of the one cradling me, gave a mirthless smile.

"They are lost indeed, adrift without their faith. They are our enemies," she stood and with her foot, pushed the dead body away from me, "and yours."

_Enemies?_

I did not remember myself so, as my brain furiously worked, I concluded it was possible I had enemies I did not know of.

Before I could ask more, the warrior addressed me.

"I am Cassandra," she said and her tone was surprisingly gentle. Her eyes seemed to shine with a light so certain, something akin to fear fleetingly seized me. She looked at me as if something she had thought irreparably gone had been restored to her.

I looked around and I saw the same emotion reflected into the eyes of every man around us. Why did they looked at me like a saint was walking among them?

The terse snap of a banner caught my attention.

The cloth unfolded, riding the wintry gale as wildly as a charging horseman. An unblinking eye, more like a sunburst crossed with a sword was picked out in gold thread against a field of midnight black.

The emerald wall inside me bent under the pressure of burgeoning remembrance. A crack appeared visible only to my mind's eye, the noise it made as loud as that of shattering glass. Pain like I had never felt before engulfed me. The _thing _on my hand burned as bright as midday sun.

"Inquisition," I gasped, digging cold fingers into my own face.

Cassandra's voice drew me back from the abyss threatening to swallow me whole.

"Yes," she nodded as soldiers approached with a makeshift stretcher, "we are. And you are bound to us, Leandra," Leliana's arms reluctantly let go of me while the men lowered the litter and as carefully as possible lifted me onto it.

"Welcome home."

The warrior's hand squeezing my shoulder as she bent over me was the last thing I knew, before sleep claimed me.

* * *

><p><em>I immediately knew it was a dream. I could not recall how long it had been since I had last dreamt. As the days I had spent in the wilderness merged into a long stretch of limitless time, one sunrise indistinguishable from the next, sleep had lost all meaning. <em>

_I was aware I had slept only after I woke, aching and cold on the exact spot where exhaustion had taken me._

This is different.

_I stood on a featureless landscape, a vast windswept plain that extended as far as the eye could see. Movement flickered at the corner of my vision, but whenever I turned there was nothing. _

_I was shadowed, watched. There was no feeling of menace, just an itch between my shoulder blades that I could not scratch, no matter how many times I tried to catch this invisible observer._

_I walked, for there was nothing else I could do, this strange world so empty I could very well believe I was the only one inhabiting it._

_A wall resolved itself into the distance, and as I drew closer I realized it was made of shimmering glass, or something of the like. In its greenish depths, lights flickered and danced and I felt irresistibly drawn to it. A single crack disrupted its perfect smoothness._

_This barrier seemed to have no end, or beginning and certainly no doors so I could pass through. It barred my way and, as I entered its shadow, I had to crane my neck upwards to glimpse its top. It made me insignificant._

_Carefully, as if I was trying to pet a rabid animal, I placed my open palm on its surface. It felt cold like the dead of winter, and yet as hot as the fire from an open forge. Ripples spread out on its surface and I felt it give under my fingers. _

_I pressed harder then and some of the lights trapped inside it, like insects in amber, edged closer, their movement growing more erratic as they neared me._

_ Suddenly a face floated up, just below my hand. I leaped back, alarm clutching at my insides, as its features revealed themselves for those of a child. _

_Those eyes._

My eyes.

_I moved forward again and pressed the wall harder, then when nothing seemed to happen, I balled my hands into fists and smashed them against its surface. _

_"Stop."_

_I jerked around, my hand dropping to an empty scabbard._

_"That will not help you here, _ma vhenan._"A woman was standing behind me, slight of build, her voice a chime, like the murmur of a waterfall._

_A pale hand unclasped the brooch that kept her cloak in place and when she shrugged her shoulders, it fell off to pool at her feet. _

_Blonde hair, like spun gold. Eyes of the deepest green serenely regarded me._

_My mouth opened in a silent scream as I collapsed to a crouch in front of her.I wept, and did not know why._

_She was suddenly looming over me, her hand behind my head, burying my face in the folds of her dress. The scent of pine and resin, of dew in the light of early morning engulfed me and her name pressed against my lips._

_"Yelena."_

_Her fingers pushed under my chin, and she tilted my head back so our eyes could meet. Her expression was one I could not decipher, but one I was sure I had seen many times before._

_"It is not yet time for you to cross that threshold," she shook her head underlying her words, "but then again, you were always impatient."_

_"Tell me why I know you!" I pleaded, "tell me why I am surrounded by familiar faces I can't recall!"_

_She pulled back and left me kneeling, trembling as inexplicable grief tore at me. Why did I feel everything more keenly in this dream, than I did when I was awake?_

_I crawled towards her, to ask more, beg more. The ground shook and the dream broke into a million shards that pierced my heart._

* * *

><p>Much later I woke to the clamminess of fever and the ache of open wounds. The dream was a dim memory, except now I could recall her face with utter clarity.<p>

The litter swayed beneath me, enticing me back into sleep. A whispered argument nearby compelled me to cling onto consciousness.

"I do want Solas to take a look at her first thing, Leliana," Cassandra's voice was cutting, like a bared blade, "that is not up for discussion."

She was as steel that one, covered in velvet perhaps, but the cloth used sparingly so that it did not take long to reveal the hardness below. Yet, there had been a kindness to her as she had spoken to me, so perhaps there were more layers to the woman than I imagined.

I was sure I ought to know her too.

"You believe she is _possessed_?" Instead of backing down, the redhead seemed to grow incensed.

"We cannot discount that possibility entirely," Cassandra's voice seemed to fade as the stretcher was shaken unexpectedly. A wave of nausea hit me and a hiss of pain escaped my lips.

Both were at my side in a flash, Cassandra's hand steadying the litter.

"Apologies, Seeker," one of the carriers muttered.

She waved his words away and peerd down at me intently.

"We are almost there, Leandra," she sounded like she was trying to reassure not only me, but herself as well.

_That must be my name._

I wanted to ask her, but the fever had drained my mouth of all moisture and the words stuck between my teeth like grains of sand.

"Truth be told," I realized she was talking to Leliana again, as the redhead walked along on the other side of me, "my heart tells me she is not. Reason however dictates caution."

Leliana made no reply.

"You above all should want to make sure," the Seeker's whisper was barely audible above the creaking of boots on frosted earth.

A sharp intake of breath from Leliana caused me to turn my tired gaze on her. Aware of my silent scrutiny, she tried to compose her features to stillness, but I saw a conflict of emotions flicker under her slipping mask.

My heart seized suddenly, beating madly against my ribcage. I felt something stir inside, ephemeral like smoke, gentle like the caress of sunrays in spring.

The wall that kept me from myself cracked some more.

I wanted to howl, I wanted to batter it down with tooth and claw, no matter how bloodied it left me. Why could I not remember? Why did I feel strings tying us together when all I really knew was her name?

I buried my face in the cloak I still wore, losing myself in the scent that was her, as hot tears ran down my cheeks.

"We are here," Cassandra broke the spell as abruptly as it had come over me. The wind lessened, then stopped completely. For the first time in days warmth suffused my limbs.

_Home?_


	10. Chapter 10 - Stitches

**STITCHES**

**Leandra**

_My father's hand trapped mine as he walked beside me silently. He was not an open man, yet he had said nothing after coming to my room to shake me awake and order curtly that I dress in the clothes he had brought. That was unusually quiet even for him._ _He quickened his step, almost dragging me along and the choice was for me to trot at his side or stumble._

_I glanced out of a window, feeling __overwrought__. The hour was so early, the faint light of approaching dawn had just began to brighten the sky to the east._ _The halls were empty save for our echoing footsteps, only one in three torches lit, the servants still fast asleep in their quarters._

_I opened my mouth to ask where we were going, but a look at his face changed my mind._ _My __brow furro__wed__ in confusion, his features seeme__d__ shimmering and clouded. I caught the impression of fierce eyes and a hawked nose, jet black stubble shadowing his cheeks._

_We halted abruptly and his hand went to my shoulder, his fingers digging in almost painfully, as if he feared I would bolt._ _He crouched down next to me._

_"We are meeting a very important guest of our House," he began, his tone a growl. Not that he was capable of anything else, the scar on his throat a stark reminder of battles long past, "you will mind your manners, won't you Leandra?"_

_I nodded, unable to meet his searching gaze, suddenly terrified. What kind of guest would we be meeting at such an hour? And why? The stray thought that I had disappointed him and he was going to sell me off, flashed through my mind._

_His fingers seized my chin cruelly and he roughly forced my head up._

_"You will not speak unless spoken to," he rasped, "and stop cowering. You are a Trevelyan."_

_"Yes, Father," My voice sounded very small._

_Satisfied with what he saw, my Father stood, and threw open the doors we had been standing in front of. He then grabbed me again and pushed me, prompting me to walk ahead of him. I had been so unsettled I had not realized we had walked up to the __Great Hall__ where he usually received dignitaries from other fiefs and lands. The place where he passed judg__ment._

_The fear that I was to be punished for something I did not know I had done grew to monstrous proportions inside me._

_He did not give me time to worry further as we briskly neared his seat. I gasped when I saw t__h__at it was taken. Who would dare? I braced myself, sure I was going to witness one of my father's legendary rages. Instead he fell to one knee and tugged me down beside him._

_"Rise Lord Trevelyan," a woman's voice ordered, "I find this sort of obeisance...tiring in such a private meeting."_

_The frailties of age added a quiver to her command, but the alacrity with which my father pulled us to our feet showed this stranger was of a station high enough, he was willing to swallow his prickly pride._

_"Your Holiness..." he began with a bow._

_"Is this the girl?" She cut him off abruptly, then seeing the thunder darkening his face, added, "you will excuse my hastiness Lord Trevelyan, but my bones are old and tired and your seat is not the most...comfortable."__She was shaming him, the way he gritted his teeth told me as much._

_"This is my daughter, Leandra" he replied stiffly._

_Before he could add more, she raised a hand, beckoning._

_"Come closer, child so we can take a good look at you. My eyes are in no much better shape than my bones." She gave a dry laugh._

_I stepped towards her slowly. Her eyes seemed to focus more as I approached. She was indeed old, the rich robes she wore hanging loose, as if tailored for a different person. I co__ul__d see the bones of her face under her skin, as if a great heat had boiled all the fat beneath away._

_Frail she may have claimed to be, but her grey eyes were steel and the sharp mind she so clearly possessed shone through._

_I was not aware I had reached her until I felt her hand ruffle my hair. There was no warmth in the gesture. Just form, for form's sake._

_"We lost a son and gained a daughter," she glanced behind her seat, "some say girls make better Templars. You ought to know the answer to that, Meredith."_

_There was a rustling from the darkness still lingering at the back of the room, the scrape of iron on the marble floor._

_An armored figure stepped forward, a tall woman, icy blue stare trained on me. On the plate covering her chest was carved a flaming sword. She looked imposing, threatening, the sword at her hip ready to be drawn in the blink of an eye, her body a tightly wound spring of barely contained violence._

_I had never seen a Templar up close._

_I raised my eyes unwillingly meeting hers. She held me in place with a stare that seemed to see right into my heart. _

_With quick fingers she removed a gauntlet and cupped my chin. Her __gaze__ bore into me, relentless. __I jerked away from her grasp, suddenly defiant__, tired of being examined like a horse at market._

_She gave a cold smile, but her eyes soft__en__ed a fraction. _

_"She has fire, this one. It will serve her well if disciplined."_

_The elderly lady chuckled._

_"Let us hope she fares better than her brother. At least she will actu__a__lly make it into the order." She was going to add more, but the door crashed open. I tore my eyes away from Meredith with effort, irresis__tibly__ attracted yet repelled by something I could not have described, a shadow that lurked in her gaze._

_As I turned I saw m__y mother __standing __on the threshold, a horror stricken expression on her face. __She struggled visibly for a moment, her gaze lingering on me as if she wanted to rush to my side and gather me to her chest._

_In the end she straightened and strode forward, head high. She managed to make the nightgown she still wore look like an evening dress, the shawl she had thrown over her shoulders like ermine._

_"I should have k__nown__ you were up to something the moment I found Leandra's bed empty." Her voice was tight with anger, her fists clenched at her sides as she strode forward purposefully._

_"Get out, woman," my father stepped onto her path, barring her way, "this does not concern you."_

_"Do not call me woman with that tone, as if you did not have a mother!" She had reached him and her slap was so unexpected, he took a step back, calloused hand covering his reddening cheek. __She took her chance and rushed past him, to kneel next to me and draw me in her arms._

_"And you!" She turned her heated gaze to the woman occupying her husband's seat, "you come in secret, like bandits, to take away my child! Have we not given enough to the Chantry already?"_

"_You gave us a dead boy so we could bury him on hallowed ground and give you a grave to cry on," my father's guest shot back, all pretense at pleasantry abandoned. The iron will I had glimpsed in her eyes was revealed as she stood slowly, heavily leaning on an ornate cane. _

"_The tithe is to be paid. Or have the Trevelyans lost their honour?" _

"_The tithe is a relic…" my mother began, tears of anger and grief wetting her cheeks. _

_My father's voice was the crack of a whip._

"_The tithe is paid. Take the child, she is my daughter no longer." _

_At those words, I felt my mother's arms spasm around me, crushing me to her chest so hard I could not breathe. I tried to push back, placing a hand on her chest and felt her heart flutter so hard beneath my fingers, I was suddenly afraid it would burst out of her._

_My father's hands suddenly clutched her shoulders and he pulled her back, hard. She screamed then and her fingers dug into my flesh, tearing at me. I knew if I looked under my tunic I would see angry, red welts where she had grabbed. They burned as did my heart, while I watched my Lord father drag her away, unceremoniously down the length of the hall._

_I could not stop watching, like on the day they had brought my brother back. _

_I had not been able to tear my eyes away from his corpse, his face a study of utter surprise._

_I gave a start as gentle hands turned me around and I found the Templar woman, Meredith, crouched in front of me. _

"_Look at me," her voice was full of command, hard, but her the weight of her hands on my shoulders almost protective. _

_I shook my head, trying to look away as my mother's wails pierced my ears, bled my heart._

"_No," one of her hands moved, holding my face turned towards her not unkindly. "Do not remember her like this, do not…"_

* * *

><p>I reared upwards, trashing, trying to scream. Hands, like steel vices pushed me down firmly and my shouts were muffled, something alien filling my mouth, my teeth clamped firmly down onto it.<p>

I shook my head, tears streaming down my cheeks, blinding me, making a mocking farce of the things around me. My tongue found purchase and I spit, whatever had held my shouts at bay, tumbling loose.

Sobs racked my body and I heard a strained, desperate voice, pleading, calling for a mother long dead, that would not come.

The same hands that had pushed me down, held my head still, gently now and, as tears were wiped from my eyes with a soft cloth, a face resolved from the shadows.

_Cassandra. _

The name was a spark in the darkness of my mind as she bent down closer, eyes as grey as smoke boring into mine.

"Hush sister," her voice was assured, becalming, even though her features were pale with the effort of holding me, the scar on her cheek all the more livid for it.

"We are ready," another woman's voice, musical accent hidden under tension and worry.

Cassandra bent forward and recovered something, which she then pressed to my lips.

"Bite onto this, Leandra. For your own good," she pushed it harder on my mouth and I had no other choice but to obey her. A taste, of animal wildness, resin and pine coated my tongue. It was soft under my teeth as I sunk them into it, yet its core hard, would not give.

I felt Cassandra shift more than seeing her and all of her weight bore down on me, as other unknown hands trapped my legs. I felt hot, salty sweat dripping into my eyes and the stench of burning metal filled my nostrils.

"Look at me Leandra," Cassandra's voice was hard now, irresistibly drawing my attention.

Pain came unexpectedly, hungry and all consuming, assaulting me like a pack of wolves, tearing, rending into my very soul. I screamed around the gag, but Cassandra's gaze held me still.

"See the pain," she instructed, "like a fire burning wildly. Tame it. It becomes smaller, a candle flame you _will _control. Do you see it?"

I did indeed see it, reflected in her eyes. Everything fed into it, it consumed me. The stench of iron was overpowered by that of burning meat, charred and cooking, blood sizzling, boiling away.

It was my own flesh, and yet my body, starved from days in the snow, reacted, drool filling my mouth, drowning me.

Agony flowed through me and ebbed away and I felt fingers reach for the thing in my mouth, loosening it out tenderly.

"You did good," it wasn't Cassandra, but another woman, hair of fire, stranger's eyes, yet familiar. Something about her called to me, I knew her yet I didn't and my mind's refusal to remember her past her name enraged me.

A freshly wet cloth cleaned my face of the last traces of pain, wiped my chin, my eyes fluttering close of their own accord despite my efforts to keep them open, to stare at her and coax my mind into remembrance.

Cool fingers traced my brow, my closing eyelids.

"Rest," her voice was armony again, the tension seemingly long past, "I won't leave you."

A searching hand found mine as exhaustion claimed me, and closed over it.

**The Nightingale**

Leandra's screams haunted me as I stared down at my fingers. Her blood was gone from my skin still, the smell of copper lingered. I had washed my hands several times after we had removed the bolt from her leg, rubbing them so hard they hurt.

I was conscious her pain had been necessary to save her, and yet I had caused it and could not forgive myself for it. The blood had been such a vivid red as it gurgled out of the hole in her thigh, her life rushing away with it. We had acted fast enough, but I had seen the shredded muscle. The wound could leave her with a limp if it did not heal properly. I wondered if there would be time for it.

Cassandra emerged from the shadows and I pushed those grim thoughts away with an effort, looking up at her as she approached and sat down next to me, on the haphazard pile of blankets I had thrown on the floor, so I could be close to Leandra should she wake.

She pushed a mug of steaming mulled wine into my hands.

"You should sleep," she started, "have you eaten at least?"

I thought about lying to her, then discarded the notion. She knew me too well, as we had worked as one for a long time and she was one of the few people that could see what lay behind my masks when I was so tired I could barely hold myself together.

"I could not stomach food even if I tried," I took a sip of the wine, it was bitter and grated down my throat.

She sighed, rolling her eyes at me, thinking that, maybe because of the darkness, I would fail to notice. It made me almost smile.

"You are no help to her if you are too tired and weak to stand yourself." she stated, brandishing her logic as mercilessly as she did her sword.

She was right, I knew and yet my melancholic mood would not lift. I thought back to what she had said as we brought Leandra back with us and to divert her, I asked:

"So, you know, don't you?"

"I have eyes to see Leliana."

She was not going to make it easy for me, was she?

"How much do you know then?"

She gave me a gentle smile.

"I know how you feel towards her, and how she feels in return. How could I not?"

"And the others?"

She shrugged, "Josephine can read you almost as well as I can...as for the others...if any suspect, they keep their peace."

I drank more, to mask my annoyance more than anything else. So I was easily read, wasn't I?

"No judgment?"

The Seeker shifted, rubbing at her eyes tiredly. Silence stretched between us, so long I was tempted to speak again, just to break it.

"I envy you," the words were a whisper, a reluctant admission, dragged out of her. Her shoulders slumped forward and she hugged her own chest, as if cold.

"You..._envy_ me?"

She nodded.

"This world… it's going to hell around us. The Divine is dead...hope... seems dead also and yet… you have found some solace. How could I begrudge you for that?"

"If she had not put me above everything else she would have her memory, and we would have our Herald." I replied bitterly, the doubts and fears that had gnawed at me since I had emerged from the Fade brought to light.

"You would be dead. And she would be the Herald, but she would not be whole." her hand on my shoulder was an affectionate touch.

"You give her purpose Leliana, " her hand squeezed my arm briefly as she stood, "she may not have said so to you yet, but it is clear as day to those of us who can see."

She turned to go, then hesitated.

"No more self pity. It does not become you." Then she was gone, as suddenly as she had appeared. It was often so with the Seeker, always ready to counsel and support those lost, despite her own inner demons.

I closed my eyes, resting my head backwards against the hard stone of the cavern. The brazier was burning too low, and the chill of the earth seeped into my bones. I shivered. How dwarves managed to live their whole lives underground eluded me.

A moan from Leandra immediately pulled me to her side. Her face was deathly pale, but as I put a hand to her forehead I was relieved to feel that the fever had abated some. She moaned again, and I could see her eyes move frantically behind her eyelids.

_Another nightmare._

My fingers stroked her cheek, trailing along the line of her jaw, then I pushed her hair soaked through with sweat away from her face. It had been strange, to see her with long hair, when we had found her. I longed to run my hands through it, to pull her into me and tell her…

Desire alighted in me despite everything and I swore to myself I would help her remember herself whatever it took. For my own sake, even if maybe it was the wrong reason.

Suddenly the ground beneath me heaved like a wounded beast and, acting on pure instinct, I threw myself onto her as a sky made of stone rained down on us both.


End file.
